Europa
by Ellie Slaughter
Summary: Dear Jacob, We're going to have a massive love affair. And what a tangled web we weave. But, somewhere, in the midst of things, we won't last. But, my God, we tried.
1. They Always Fly Away

Author's Note: Hello. This is my first multichapter here, so I hope it's up to par. It's really cryptic at times and I hope I make sense.

I'm also looking for a beta reader, so if anyone is interested then please let me know.

Just a note: this is six years in the future. I mention it in the story, but I'm just stating it here again.

Another Note: This shifts point of view from Leah's to Jake's. You will **always **know when the point of view changes. I always start the opening paragraph of Jake's point of view in **bold. **Leah's will always be regular, sans bold, sans italics. I hope this won't confuse anyone in the near future.

* * *

Europa

* * *

I ran out the yellow taxi cab once the hospital was in sight. Before I could reach the sliding doors to the entrance, the driver called out to me in an indigent yell.

"Hey, Sugarlips!" He reached over the passenger seat and glared at me from the window, "you gotta fuckin' pay!"

I looked back and tossed him a couple twenties that reached nowhere near the cab.

"Keep the change, asshole," I spat and continued to run in the hospital. I ran up to the receptionist desk, the stench of death and carcass in the air gave my stomach a lurch. I slammed my palms on the desk and glared at the older woman with sea foam green eyes that reminded me of my mother with the worried glance she gave me. The familiar tingle when her eyes squinted slightly, glistening in the artificial lighting, but dark enough with the hue of worry and disappointment. My stomach constricted and the familiar sensation of guilt flooded my stomach.

"Where is she?" I demanded.

"I'm sorry, Honey. But you need to calm down, tell me the last name of the patient that you're trying to visit," the older woman with graying hair spoke softly and slow. Articulating each word with precision, slow enough only for a foreigner.

"Clearwater," I spoke frantically. My fist clenching and unclenching periodically. She was moving too slow. She typed agonizingly slow into the computer screen. She looked up and gave me a reassuring smile, much like my mothers. "Okay Honey, I have a Clearwater for room 712. That'd be up the elevator t-" I back away slowly, her words processing slower than what my mind was moving. Before she could finish giving me the directions. I muttered an incoherent 'thank you'; slurred enough to be a drunk man's speech. Ignoring the looks passerby's giving me.

I turned around and ran to the elevator, rapidly pushing the up button. Tears threatening to fall down with every passing thought of my mother on the hospital bed.

"Come on, you fucking elevator," I sputtered out, still punching the up button. The doors open and I ran inside, bumping into the people who were exiting. A few murmurs of, "rude bitch" and "asshole" were heard, but quickly ignored. I punched the 7 button and ran my fingers through my ragged hair cut that was uneven and frayed on the ends. I griped the strands and tugged. Desperate to feel anything other than guilt and sorrow that pours through my mouth and spills on my skin. Just as the doors were closing, a man squeezed his way in with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. The delicate smell of lilies and baby's breath engulfed the air around us and encased my nose and held it captive. He spared me one cursory glance. With his eyes set like cameras, I could feel his beady eyes boring holes in my skin.

Ignoring him, I brought a shaky hand to rub my runny nose and let the onslaught of tears mar my face. Memories of my mother and I rushing like feral waves of a tide in my mind. I hiccupped and placed my hand over my mouth to muffle my sobs; choking on hot saliva.

With a blurry vision enough to be a blind man's sight, I watched as the elevator moved with slow precision, stopping periodically at each level to welcome newcomers. Tapping my foot impatiently and promptly ignoring everyone's stare, I watched as the light hovered over the number 7 pronouncing that I've reached my level. Once the elevator dinged, I ran out of the elevator, bumping into a family and stumbling over a kid with pig tails, clutching a stuffed animal that looked like a bunny by the ears. Frantically, I looked between the hallways, digesting which way to go. Which way my mother was on the hospital bed.

A skeptical nurse came up to me with deep brown eyes, black hair in a pony tail, and with caramel skin. Coking her head to the side, her questions fell upon deaf ears. My mind running away with me with each glance I took to the different hallways. My eyes dancing a frantic and desperate dance around the room, searching for a sign that could lead me to room 712.

"Miss! I'm sorry, but you can't be up here if you don't have a visitors pass! Miss. _Miss_?" I glanced at her and dashed to the right, running pass door after door.

"703, 704, 705... 712" I murmured to myself as I ran like a maniac down the pale white halls, the draft of antiseptic and the haunting smell of death filled my blackened lungs. I came to an abrupt stop, inches away from running into the door frame. From the doorway of the ICU room 712, I could see everyone that I was desperately trying to escape. Ignoring the looks that everyone gave me, my eyes walked to the bed that my mother was currently on.

Noticing the stillness of the room, she slowly turned her head. Instantly when her eyes met mine, her eyes widened, tears pooling in her eyes waiting for the dam to break. My heart cracked when I saw the state my mother was in, black and blue bruises stained her once beautiful, flawless, russet skin, bones on the brink of breaking, but her eyes. Her eyes that once used to be full of life, were slowly dying away with each tainted oxygen she inhales in this hospital. Death was two blocks away and she left her door open with a nice apple pie in the window seal.

I robotically walked over to her bed. She slowly opened the palm of her hand, beckoning me. Dropping to my knees ungracefully in front of her, I buried my head in the white sheets that smelled like ammonia and detergent. Fisting the sheets, I cried.

* * *

_"We are all in one or another selfish machines. In no way is this a negative thing, its human nature. We all have natural tendencies to want, love, and take. When it comes down to it, humans have animal like qualities that we keep inside and even try to deny-but no matter how morally good someone may think they are or try to be, we are all still humans..."_

_Vic Fuentes_

* * *

And I cried.

I looked up to my mom and wailed. I felt her wrinkled and frail hands creep into mine. I squeezed her hands and she weakly squeezed mine in return. Even her strength was dying. A once strong woman, now held the grip of a toddler. I met her eyes and for once, her eyes held no disappointment, but love. The type a love a mother can only show her daughter.

"Mommy!" I wailed, resounding off the walls, echoing like a bitter funeral chorus. I whined her name over and over. Burning her name in my mind. Scarring the onlookers that were family and friends. The mood in the room darkened and a fog thick enough to suffocate everyone. Sorrow even showed up very nicely in her finest red cocktail dress. My mom smiled wistfully and with a hoarse voice, she spoke to me.

"Leah, baby, I thought I would never see you again," she said with tears streaming down her face. Sadness danced with love in her eyes to a melancholy tune for the forsaken twenty-seven year old woman in front of her, I painfully acknowledged that woman as me. I broke down. Guilt washed over me and suddenly, there was too much oxygen and it became hard to breathe.

"I'm so sorry," I wailed, shaking my head, tears flying down my face, "mommy, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, _please_, I'm so sorry."

In the background, I could hear the faint noise of a chair scuffing the cheap white and blue tiles. I could see a figure approach me from my peripheral. I felt a strong, firm hand, grip my shoulder and I looked up to see my brother. My beautiful, baby brother. He gave me a small smile that didn't reach eyes that used to outshine the sun. I sniffled and rubbed my nose with the back of my hand. He held his hand out for me to take and I grasped it and let him pull me up. He nodded his head to the door, silently asking me to go out there with him. Stealing one last look at my mother, I lead the way outside the door and waited until Seth followed me out, waiting for the click of the door closing.

We stood there in an awkward silence. Six years of distant emails and shitty letters goes a long way. He looked so much older than twenty-two. He looked harden beyond his years, looking more of a man who just came from war, than a young man in the prime of his life. He was buffer. He didn't smile and he surely wasn't naïve little Seth anymore. I don't even know the stranger in front of me.

"Lee," he breathed before he lunged himself in my arms. His long arms encasing me in his warmth. I immediately hugged him with all the force I had. I buried my face in his chest and felt hot tears spurring down my face into his shirt. "I missed you, Leah," he said backing up out of the hug. I rubbed my face ridding the offending tears and nodded.

"I missed you, too, Sethy Poo," he scoffed.

"Stop calling me that," a pause, "ma missed you, too," another pause. A sigh. A scuff of his heel on the cheap tile floor. "Everyone on the res missed you. A lot has changed since you left. People aren't the same since you left." Not even me - words that went without saying.

"I'm sorry I left you. I would have taken you with me, but you didn't want to come and- and- and-" I stopped, "Why didn't you want to come? I would have taken care of you, you wouldn't have to live in this Hell hole."

"I know. " An awkward silence. "Mom isn't going to make it, the doctors said that the seizure was cause by blood clots in her brain. The stroke was too much for her to withstand."

"How much longer?" I asked softly.

"If she's lucky, tomorrow," he shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. I ran my fingers through my hair for the second time today. I nodded, not fully comprehending, but understanding enough to know that my mom was dying by the second.

"Excuse me," we turned around and faced a middle-aged man with a white coat on, whom was clearly my mother's doctor. I looked at the blue, cursive embroidery above his left chest pocket that read: Dr. C. Cullen. He gave a friendly smile and held his hand out towards me. I took it and I firmly shook his hand. "I don't believe we've met."

"I'm Leah Clearwater, I'm her daughter," he nodded and smiled once again.

"Dr. Cullen. I understand that you two are Mrs. Clearwater's only family left?" Seth and I nodded and waited for the man to continue what he was saying. "Your mother is really frail for her age, we wanted to know that in case of an emergency, do you want us to try or do not resuscitate?" I clenched my jaw and fought back the tears that were screaming to be released. Seth easily slipped his hand into mine and squeezed. Silently letting me know that I'm not alone; that he and I are in this together. Seth looked to me, awaiting an answer.

"No," I whispered, hoarsely. Seth's hand shook slightly. Dr. Cullen leaned in a fraction with a frown on his face.

"I'm sorr-," I cut him off.

"No!" I yelled, opening the gate for the tears to fall. I brought a hand to my mouth and cried silently in my palm. I can't believe I said that. I can't believe I told the doctor don't bother to keep my mother alive. Let her die. But, I didn't want her to suffer the rest of her life. Dr. Cullen looked taken aback, looked at Seth who nodded, but solemnly acknowledged our wish. He gave a melancholy smile.

"I understand, Ms. Clearwater. These decisions are always hard to make." With that, he took his leave. And I turned back to the window and looked at my mother laying on the bed. Her eyes looked so dull, lifeless. She was already dead.

Just because you're breathing, don't mean you're alive.

I saw Seth as he moved to put a hand on my shoulder. He squeezed.

"Go get a cup of coffee or something. Calm your nerves. No one's going to resent you," he spoke, but his eyes were in the room. I followed his gaze and saw all the people in the small ICU room that came to see my mother off.

Billy Black slouched in his wheelchair, both he and the chair look like they've seen better days. Rachel and Paul - not too far from the old man incase he needed something - holding each others hand. Embry Call was in the corner; silently observing, a grim, somber expression etched on his face. He looked up and our eyes met through the rectangular glass window, his eyes were dark, dread flooded his eyes and overflowed in a cascading waterfall down his face. Wondering what wonders his eyes have seen in the six years I've been away. His gaze never faltering. I quickly looked away. I spotted Sam and my cousin Emily next to Paul and Rachel, her head tucked into the crook of his neck, rubbing her baby bump that was slowly protruding out in a nice perfect mound. I felt the knots constrict like a noose over my heart. I quickly looked away, but my eyes snaked back to where Sam rove his hand over her bump and kissed her cheek tenderly, lovingly.

The familiar stench of jealously and the welcoming pang of betrayal captured me in a warm casket. I choked up the unwanted feelings and diverted my attention to my mother's bed where a petite woman, no older than twenty-one with long black locks with streaks of brown through and through, stress lines marring her heart-shaped face that held the tiniest traces of sorrow. Even in the artificial lighting, her eyes managed to hold a slight sparkle in the pit, her tanned flesh was a darker hue than the majority in the room. I followed her fluid motions as she bent down to pick up a little girl - no older than seven - closer to my mother whom smiled fondly at the little girl who was now sitting indian style on the small single hospital bed. My mother smiled at her much like she does with Seth; like she used to do with me. The little girl had two pony tails perched on the side of her head with pink and white bows, reminding me much of myself when I was ripping and running around with a two-year old Seth right on my heels. The little girl was smiling ear to ear with an uncanny resemblance to the man to my left. Her hazel eyes glittered, the way only a Clearwater could and when she scuffed her heel on the edge of the bed, I gasped.

I looked to the man on my left, looking as his own hazel eyes glittered the way only a Clearwater could and when he scuffed his heel nonchalantly, I brought my hand to my mouth to muffle the screeching sob that was trying to rip through. I couldn't tear myself away as I watched my baby brother look at his little daughter - a daughter I never had the privilege of meeting for my own selfish reasons. He never tore his eyes away from his small little family of two. The little girl laughed at something her grandmother said; my mother. I watched, intently, as she kissed her grandmother on the forehead and pranced away from the bed taking her mother's hand in her own and sat down in the chair adjacent to the bed.

"Her name is Aleah Carmen Clearwater. Born December 1, 2012, I couldn't go with you because Carmen was two months pregnant. I couldn't leave my family. I named her Aleah because I didn't know if I would see you again, so I felt as though both of us could always have a part of you, even if it was just a part of your name." He rubbed the back of his elbow and scuffed his heel. "I was scared. I was sixteen, I didn't know how to be a dad, I could barely cook and do laundry, much less take care of a kid, y'know? I wanted to come, go with you, and leave everything, Carmen, Aleah. But, when Carmen pushed Aleah out and I met my daughter for the very first time. I knew that I could never leave her side.

"She had already had me wrapped around her little fingers. I'm sorry I never told you. I should have. It was rough, the first two years. Being sixteen, seventeen years old and taking care of a kid. Who'd ever heard of a kid taking care of a kid. I had to drop out of school to support the three of us. Mom couldn't do it, she barely had enough money to take care of her and the house. It was hard. I grew up too fast. I feel like a thirty year old man in a twenty-one year old's body," he finished, giving me a weary smile. I couldn't help but to feel guilty at my brother's short comings. And even as he confessed to me, I still didn't know the stranger to my left. I didn't know if it was a warning or a sign.

He was staring so intently at his daughter, watching as she scuffed her heels on the floor periodically. He watched the mother of his child interact with her daughter, although the signs of stress were evident, she didn't let it show in front of her daughter.

There was a loud beeping coming from inside the room and I panicked. I ran into the room. I stopped before I reached the bed. And I watched the horrific scene before me. I watched, immobile as my mother flatlined. My eyes enlarged. I was in shock. Everything moved in slow motion. I watched as Aleah screamed and was rushed out of the room by her mother; Carmen. Billy Black sat straight as a board in his chair and tears instantly flooded his eyes. I saw the nurses come in and unplug the life support. Emily sobbing in the crook of Sam's neck. Dr. Cullen running in and trying to console a discombobulated Seth. It was chaos. I watched as Emily shouted at Dr. Cullen to help bring her back. Rachel trying to keep her own tears at bay and console her father for losing, yet, another one of his closet friends. I was mute. I was stuck; rooted to the floor.

And then it sank; my stomach. I felt it. I felt the loss of losing my mother. I screamed and pulled my hair. My mom, my beautiful mother was no longer here. It's crazy to think that she was just breathing five minutes ago. Her body was here, but she wasn't. It was unfathomable to think of. I cried, and cried, and cried, and cried. It was as if my life was flashing before my eyes like a drive-in movie. I couldn't stop the onslaught of misery that filled my lungs, my brain, my stomach, my heart. I backed up until I was met with the cool surface of the wall and slid ungracefully.

I brought my knees to my chest and I wallowed in my misery in the corner of the room. Watching the chaos. I looked up at the ceiling, searching for God. I prayed for the very first time.

But, the sky was empty.

* * *

_"Even death has a heart."_

_Markus Zusak_

* * *

I sat in the furthest corner of the hospital's meditation room staring at the wooden cross perched on the wall. I felt numb. My eyes stung from crying too much and my cheeks were puffy from excessively scrubbing the tears away. I heard the door creak open and I heard the heavy footsteps of someone approaching. I didn't bother to acknowledge them. They stopped before me. I could see a hint of their black shoes from the corner of my eye. The person slid down next to me and he didn't have to say a word. I already knew who he was. His musky, earthy scent engulfed me. Made a warm cot to lay my tired body on and inhale him. I wanted to fall into a sea of him. Burn my lungs, _just once more._

Some part of me wonders what could have been, given another chance. But a small nagging in the back of my mind taunts me.

_It would have ended the same way. We were doomed from the beginning._

There was too much oxygen.

He didn't say anything, but his presence was overpowering. He laid his head against the wall and sighed. His hot breath melting the atmosphere, filling it with his essence. We sat in silence, the dead language of two former lovers. He turned his head so he was facing me. I could feel his stare piercing through me. Burning holes in my body, making my skin crawl with a mixed sensation of satisfaction and uncomfortableness.

Jacob crossed his arms over his chest and I couldn't help to wonder what he does with his arms now that they aren't around me. What did he do with the empty space between he and I? Staring off, Jacob shifted beside me and spoke a soft tone, soft enough for me to hear, but not loud enough to disturb the silence.

"Do you ever think about death?" I turned to him. I watched his every move. Watched as he continued to stare off into space. The way his eyelashes batted.. The twitch of his jaw. The way his fingers rubbed against each other, the undeniable search for something in his hollow eyes. I sighed. I turned back to stare at the cross. How wonderful it would be to lie down and just sleep with beautiful green grass above your head and flowers to decorate your bed. Who would turn that down? What's the point of living if we're all going to die in the end? Living just to die. How pitiful. What a waste of space.

"All I know is, that to die, would be an awfully big adventure."

* * *

_"...It's human nature broken down to its bare bones, no bull, just rock bottom honest feelings and desire. No trying to be nice, shy, or respectable, it's all about the 'evil' thing inside of us that is really not evil all, it's just there and always be inside of us all."_

_Vic Fuentes_

* * *

Author's Note: Well, there you have it! The very first chapter of Europa. I hope it was semi enjoyable and you got to see a few things. I hope it was to your liking. Chapters will probably be every two weeks, since it's my senior year and I'm going back to school pretty soon, but the entire story is planned out. It just needs to be written.

Again, I hope you liked it. (: .


	2. Even Bad Men Love Their Mothers

Author's Note: Thank everyone for their great feedback. It really means a lot.

Just a note: This is all **human.** I also wanted people to know that this will be a slower paced story, it won't move as fast as some people may like, but it's not going to move at a snails pace either. I just wanted people to know that so that way they won't be too disappointed when Jake and Leah actually start happening.

**I'm still looking for a Beta Reader. If anyone wants to be my Beta Reader, please PM me.**

Another Note: This shifts point of view from Leah's to Jake's. You will **always **know when the point of view changes. I always start the opening paragraph of Jake's point of view in **bold. **Leah's will always be regular, sans bold, sans italics. I hope this won't confuse anyone in the near future.

* * *

Europa

* * *

The aftermath was dark.

I sat curled up in my parent's old bed. Everything neat and tidy; just the way my mother left it. My mother's things in the exact same place she left them in on her nightstand, her reading glasses, her coaster, and _The Bell Jar_ by Sylvia Plath was resting on her nightstand with a red ribbon placed neatly inside — marking her most recent page — with just enough red silk showing. I stared at the book. I reached over and picked it up and clutched it to my chest. I don't even think I was capable of crying anymore. I ran my fingers over the smooth cover of the paperback book. A tingling sensation snaked through my fingertips. I rolled over onto my father's side and stared at his nightstand. It hasn't changed for seven years. It was the exact same when I left six years ago.

His silver watch on the right hand corner, his own pair of reading glasses, and a newspaper dated back February 2011; just a month before he died. I reached over and gently grabbed the newspaper and clutched it to me. I held the last things of my parent's. I rolled over to my side and sniffed the bed that had a delightful mix of my mother's soft, lilac fragrance and my father's warm, cinnamon musk. Each scent flew into my nostrils and gave my stomach an empty feeling inside. A feeling I can only chalk up as loneliness. Empty handed we enter this world. Empty handed we leave.

I reached over and grabbed my father's silver watched that still kept perfect time: _9:48 am_. I slipped on the watch that he never took off. I admired its beauty. I gently brushed my fingers over the face of the watch and remembered when my father used to tell me; _"Leah-Bee, time stops for no man. But, you control the hands."_

_"Silly, daddy! Clocks don't have hands!" I yelled at him, knowing that I was right and he was wrong. I looked over at my father and cocked my head to the side as I watched him chuckle. Why was he laughing when he was wrong?_

_"You're absolutely right, Leah-Bee," he said as he grabbed me and tickled me to death. I laughed blissfully._

I heard the door open and I knew it was my brother's light footsteps walking towards the bed. I looked over at him and he stood at the foot of the bed. I sat up and leaned against the headboard. I gave him a small smile that came out more like a grimace. He scuffed his heel once and jabbed his thumb in the direction of the door.

"Billy is here with Jake and Sam and Emily are here to help with funeral plans, Lee. Billy said he would cover most of the funeral, since she was on the council," I nodded, not really caring to talk about the funeral; I had half a mind not to show my face down there. I saw Seth and the tear stains that left tiny traces of their presence on his face. His shirt was rumpled and wrinkled and his eyes had slight bags under them. His eyes held such a desperate need. A need I don't know if I'll be able to give. I gave a puff of air. I open my arms and Seth came rushing in my arms, flopping haphazardly on the bed, messing up the red chrysanthemum embellished comforter in the process. He came tumbling down, faster than Caesar's empire. I encased him in my arms and felt as his body shook with each broken sob that escaped his lips. Tears rushing out his eyes like an uncontrollable regurgitation. He pulled away and I watched the waterfall pour out of his eyes and I silently wondered how much was for the death of our mother.

"Lee, I'm still a baby," Seth wailed, bursting into more tears. His body wracking with uncontrollable sobs, "I don't have a mommy, anymore! I don't have a daddy, anymore! I'm so lost! It's too hard! This isn't how life is supposed to go! Leah~," he dragged my name out, sounding like a three-year old who just lost his mommy in Walmart, "this isn't how things are supposed to be!" He buried his face in my buxom and clutched my shirt in a deathly grip. I stroked his hair lovingly. I rocked him as if he was a five-year old child in my arms. I shushed him, rubbed his back, and combed my fingers through his hair. My baby, my baby brother. My little Sethy. I now knew the little boy in front of me that was hiding in men's clothing. I rested my chin on his head and smiled. Letting my salty tears claim my face as I continued to rock him. I spoke softly into his jet, black mane, reminding me so much of our dad. He looked just like him, too.

"It's okay. I'll take care of you. I promise. I'll never leave you again," I whispered. He was my child now.

The room was silent and the only thing that could be heard was the heartbreaking sobs of a little boy who lost his mommy and his innocence too young; too fast.

* * *

_"There is no truly way to be great in this world. We are impaled on the crook of conditioning. A fish in the water has no choice that he is. Genius would have it that we swim in sand. We are fish and we drown."_

_James Dean_

* * *

I gently nudged Seth away and he sat up straight. He grazed his hand over his eyes to wipe the remains of water off his face. I smiled at him and put my hands on his cheek and brought his face closer and placed a kiss on his forehead. I pulled away and watched silently as the little boy in front of me put back on his men's clothing.

"Cheer up, kiddo. Mom and dad would be mad at us for acting like this," I said with a little pep in my voice. Contrast to what I was feeling just moments before Seth came into the room. But, one of us had to carry the burden. He nodded and allowed a tiny smile to grace his face.

"Yeah, you're right."

"Damn, right." I stood up and held my hand out for Seth to take, just like what he did for me when we were in the small ICU room 712. He looked at my hand and then at me and took my outstretched hand. I pulled him up to his feet. Looking up at him, I gave him a reassuring rub on the back. With a slight nod of his head, I let him walk pass me to go downstairs to where everyone was waiting to discuss funeral plans. With his back turned, I let my face drop, dropping the façade that I was strong enough for Seth's sake. I scrubbed my face with my palms and feeling the exhaustion taking over my body, hypnotizing me. My bones ached from being curled from dusk to dawn. My eyes were sore. And my heart just hurt. From inside its brick house, my glass heart hurt.

I plopped down on the uncomfortable floor by the door. I squeezed my chest where my heart was. Everything was numb. I looked at my parent's bed, staring at how the bed sheets were rumpled, the newspaper laying idly next to the book; out of place. Everything was out of place. Why was it out of place? It's not supposed to be out of place. I slowly stood and walked over the bed. I grabbed my mother's book and placed it where she left it. Grabbing the newspaper, I did the same. Grasping one corner of the comforter, I pulled the blanket up back to the top of the bed where it was. I ran my hand over the embellishments. Smoothening out the creases and wrinkles. I kneeled down and ran my cheek against the fabric, memorizing the way it felt against my skin. Inhaling the scent that was my mother and father; again, and again, and again.

I walked over to my father's nightstand and hovered while I unclasped his watch. Once more, I allowed my fingers to feel the silver of the watch. I brought it to my cheek, the coolness of the metal making the hairs on my arms stand up, leaning into the watch, I imagined it was my father for the very last time. Dejectedly, I placed his watch back in the right hand corner.

I turned around and headed for the door, with one last look, I saw my mother and father on their bed reading their books and newspapers with their reading glasses perched on the bridge of their nose; they looked up and smiled at me, love glistening in their eyes brighter than the sun. I smiled back. I turned around to let them rest and I closed the door.

Resting my back against the door, I bit my tongue and allowed a few tears slip out. I hastily brushed the away and held my head high. I continued my trek down the stairs. Reaching the end of the stairs, everyone in the room stopped whatever they were doing and stared. Everyone expecting me to just drop down and cry. Waiting for the already wounded woman to open her sores and wallow in her misery. An awkward silence passed and I exhaled. I made eye contact with everyone in the cramped living room that was only big enough for four people. Looking around, we're all broken here. I could see the surface wounds on everyone's flesh. Emily was the first to make a move, she walked up to me and hugged me.

I flinched.

She didn't let go. I slowly wove my arms around her and relished in pretending that we were sisters again; sharing the loss of a family member, finding solace in each other, but the feel of her baby bump against my stomach sent the familiar stab of daggers in my back, shattering the dream, and I pushed her off me. She bowed her head lowly in her mistake and slowly made her way back into Sam's arms. I watched her back as she went. I felt jealousy creep its way into my eyes, turning them green as the cozy couple embraced in the silence of the room. I quickly looked away. I saw Billy Black in his wheelchair to the left of his son. Billy had his head down and he looked older than his fifty-eight years of age. His skin was pale and looked like Death would be making a house call pretty soon to get a down payment. I looked over at his son. Someone I could once call my lover and I quickly looked away.

And Misery, ripping and running around the room. Choking everyone. Suffocating them until their faces were black and blue. Sadistically laughing all the while.

Misery loves company.

I looked back at Jacob. The steadiness of his gaze had the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Goosebumps rising on my arms, my legs, my feet. He tore his gaze away when his father grabbed his hand to get his attention, I followed him as he moved his left hand overtop of his father's and talked in hushed tones. I looked at the firm, yet gentle grip he had on his father's hand, the smoothness of his skin, and the length of his colossal hands; reminiscing the way he used to trace his fingers on my stomach. Or the way he would gently cup my cheek. I, absentmindedly, brought my hand to my cheek and leaned into the touch, imaging his hand there. I sighed and slowly drifted back into reality.

Not liking the bitterness of reality, I quickly stalked out of the living room. Murmuring an incoherent "need fresh air" on my way out back on one of the lawn sofas on the porch.

The sky even had the decency to rain—how fitting for the mood. It seems that even the sky is sad for losing its sunshine.

I watched as the rain fell from the sky in a free fall—the sky came falling; landing on the earth like shattered glass. I stalked out from under the cover of the porch and stood in the middle of the backyard. I willed the rain to wash me away with it. I stared as the sky darkened, reminding me so much of my misery. I searched the sky, rain falling on my face, looking for my mother to see if she was there. I silently begged anything to show me a sign that my mother was fine where ever she was. I felt the tears fall in synchronization with the rain forming a bitter symphony. It danced around me in a slow, calm waltz. Showing no mercy.

The sky kept falling.

I just wanted my mommy back. I wanted this nightmare to end. I don't know how much more I can take; my body already had enough battle wounds. It was getting harder to believe that there was a bright side to this suffering. _I just wanted to give up._ What could I do to change yesterday's sorrows?

I didn't acknowledge Jacob when he stood behind me outside, under the pouring rain. He stood stock still and watched the rain fall like little pallets from the sky. I turned towards him. The wetness from the rain made his clothes stick to his body. His black, cropped hair stuck to his face. His jaw clenched together. Struggling with whatever internal battle that was inside of him.

Suddenly, his hand darted out and grabbed me by my hips and pulled me into his chest. My arms immediately went around his torso. I gripped his black, tailored shirt and dug my nails into the shirt, into his skin. He hugged me tightly, his arms that I used to spend hours in, found me once again.

I gave into the grief.

I cried. I cried at the death of my mother. I cried for missing my father. I cried for Seth. I cried for myself. My poor, pitiful self. I welcomed wracking sobs, the heaving, the hiccups. I allowed everything to take over my body. I gripped Jacob tighter. He did the same.

"_Don't let me go!_" I screeched into his chest. He just placed his chin on top of my head and brought one hand to stroke my tangled hair. Firmly holding my head close to his chest, to his beating heart. Pounding like a drum, louder than thunder.

The rain continued to pour. Intertwining with my tears, forming an acrid march down my face. Echoing the backyard like a Siren's song.

I looked up once more at the gloomy, depressed sky, knocking on the door looking for God, looking for my mommy.

But once again, no one was home.

* * *

_"All that is gold does not glitter,__  
__Not all those who wander are lost;__  
__The old that is strong does not wither,__  
__Deep roots are not reached by the frost..."_

_J.R.R. Tolkien_

* * *

Eventually, Jacob and I went to sit under the porch. He didn't say a word, but his silence wrapped around me in a warm, soft blanket to rest my tired soul. I rested my head on his shoulder with my knees tucked tightly in my chest. His long limbs were stretched out and he was twiddling with his fingers like he did last night. I watched his movements, numbly. His right hand rubbing his left hand, subconsciously. I snuggled my head in the crook of his chest and armpit. Letting the essence of Jacob have its way with me. Again, we found ourselves in silence. Jacob watched the rain _pit, pit, pat, patter, _on the awning.

"Are you scared to die?" As he spoke the words, I felt the rumble of his chest like waves, I leaned more into him; if possible.

"I'm scared to be forgotten," a moment of silence passed between the two of us, "sometimes I lay in my mom and dad's old bed and I think about all the things I missed and continue to miss out on. And then there's a gruesome pang in my stomach, and I don't know if it's loneliness or nostalgia; but it molds together to create me in my most pitiful form," I whispered out placidly.

He sighed deeply and reached to place his hands on his knees. He gripped them tightly. Knuckles turning powder white. Veins protruding. His body started to shake a little and I looked up to see tears swelling in his eyes. His eyebrows narrowed a fraction and he breathed in deeply through his nose.

"I miss you, _so fucking much_," he exhaled in a breathy moan. Shaking his head slowly side to side. I basked in his confession. Letting his words sink deeper and deeper. I wove my arms around him and held him as he cried. A part of me wonders how much of his confession was for me or for his mother that left him at the tender age four. Regardless, we both sat in a reflective stillness somehow only finding solace in the rain.

"Pretend you can't feel at all. That's how you numb the pain," I told him. I knew how much Billy and Jacob used to crutch on my mom when Sarah died. It was like reliving Sarah's death all over again on instant replay. I wondered how much Jacob was holding inside for the sake of his father.

I leaned off Jacob, letting him cry in peace. I reached in my pants— which I wore yesterday— digging in the pocket for my pack of cigarettes. I eased the Marlboros out of my pocket along with my lighter. I placed the cancer stick in my mouth and lit it up. I took a long drag. I leaned against the brick of the house. I sighed in moderate content. I let the nicotine swim its way in my body, tainting my already blackened lungs.

As I sat there smoking my cigarette, I couldn't help but to think of when times were better. When my dad would come home, my mom cooking in the kitchen, chastising me for picking on Seth; I could remember like it was yesterday; _"Leah~" a five year old Seth whined, "just give up, already! I wanna play too! You can't always hog the game!"_

_"Shut up, Sethy-Baby! I can, too!" I yelled at him just as my father walked into the door. He looked tired and worn out from a hard's day of work. Stress wore his body down. Sleeplessness claimed his face. _

_"Mommy~! Make Leah share the game!" I rolled my eyes as Seth ran into the back of our mother in the kitchen. It was spaghetti night. My father walked into the living room and pecked me on my forehead and ruffled my hair._

_"Hey, Leah-Bee," he smiled down on me. I stopped playing the game for a second and gave my father a kiss on the cheek._

_"Daddy! Tell Seth to stop being such a baby and let me play the game!" I knew my daddy would be on my side; after all, I was his little girl. He arched his eyebrow and looked over into the kitchen at my mother who smiled a small smile. He chuckled._

_"I don't know, Leah-Bee," he said with mock seriousness, "let me see what mommy says," he looked over at my mother once more. She wiped her hands on her white apron with cherries on it. She dragged a pouty Seth by the hands out the kitchen. I looked over at the cry baby and stuck my tongue out at him. He snuggled up more into our mother's leg and returned the gesture. My mom and dad shared an amused eye._

_"Okay, guys. Leah why don't you let your brother play the game with you?" My mother asked in a tone that I knew meant no nonsense. I scowled. _

_"'Cause! He keeps telling me to give up! But I won't give up! I'm never going to give up on this game; I'm gonna win!" I yelled, stomping my foot down. My dad gave a hearty laugh and held in stomach. With a joyful smile, he ruffled my hair._

_"Don't worry, Leah-Bee. Just let your brother play with you just this once. Who knows? It could help you win the game." I grumbled and tossed Seth the other controller, begrudgingly. A gleeful Seth caught the controller and blissfully played the game. My mom came up kissed me on my cheek. _

_"I know you can do it, baby. I won't give up on you."_

The sounds of Jacob getting up on two feet woke me up my reverie. I looked up at him as he dust off his pants and held his hand out for me. I examined his long, slender hand. I traveled my gaze up to his face and felt the familiar tingles roam my body. Butterflies evolving in my stomach; erupting from their cocoons and flying freely. He gave a goofy smile and I watched as his teeth shined and blinded me. I took his hand and reveled in the warmth it radiated. He gripped my hand as soon as it came in contact with his and pulled me up. I wiped my butt off.

"Jacob?" I asked.

"Yeah?"

"Are you scared to die?" He shrugged his shoulders, noncommittally.

"I'll worry about that when I'm dead," and as he spoke those words, I knew that this Jacob isn't the same Jacob I left at First Beach six years ago. He isn't the same Jacob that I used to share a bed with; gave myself to. I'm not quite sure who this Jacob is, but I'm determined to find out. He nodded his head towards the door and I gave a nod of approval.

Impulsively, I turned back and glanced once more at the sky.

The sky cleared up, but somehow I was still here.

And when the sun slowly woke up from its nap, I marveled at its radiance. The way it could shine light on anything, burn away today's miseries. Turning on my heel to go back in to plan the funeral, I spared one last glance at the sun and I realized it was my mother in her most beautiful form. And with a breathtaking smile, she said to me in a beautiful, wistful tone with my father's arm around her shoulder.

"I won't give up on you."

* * *

_"From the ashes the fire shall be woken,__  
__A light from the shadows shall spring;__  
__Renewed shall be blade that was broken,__  
__The crownless again shall be King."_

_J.R.R. Tolkien_

* * *

Author's Note: Wooo! Thank you everyone who reviewed! That really means a lot. I'm so glad that everyone liked it. I hope this met everyone's expectation. Sorry for any mistakes! I currently don't have a Beta Reader and I'm pretty sure I've read this like twenty fucking times and it all looks like chickenscratch.

This one came out faster than I expected. I hope everyone enjoyed the little Jake/Leah moment.

Did any catch my foreshadowing or my symbolism? There was a bunch in here. Anyways, that's it. (: I'm not too sure on if the next chapter will crank out as fast as this one did.

**Echoing the backyard like a Siren's song**: Reference to The Odyssey. Sirens were beautiful women who sung songs to get sailors to come over to their island and wreck their ship.


	3. Cannibal

Author's Note: You guys are seriously incredible. Everyone's review set off a party in my tummy. ^^ I hope you all enjoy this next installment of Europa.

Just a note: this is six years in the future. I mention it in the story, but I'm just stating it here again.

Another Note: This shifts point of view from Leah's to Jake's. You will **always **know when the point of view changes. I always start the opening paragraph of Jake's point of view in **bold. **Leah's will always be regular, sans bold, sans italics. I hope this won't confuse anyone in the near future.

* * *

Europa

* * *

The skies were gray this morning.

It was a melancholy day. The birds were singing a sad symphony and the trees swayed slowly. I looked out of my old bedroom window and watched as life continued on. It's funny how life moves on, even when your life is at a standstill.

I stood in front of the mirror, staring at the woman in front of me. I studied her hair; the way each strand was dying and in deep need of moisture; the bags under her eyes that screamed insomnia; pale skin that has seen better, sunny days; and eyes that looked so lifeless and devoid of anything. She was truly hideous.

And she was me.

I studied the little black dress that adorned my body. I ran my fingertips along the material and relished in the coolness it radiated. I looked over on the counter and eyed the black hat with black and white flower embellishments perched on top. It was an exaggerated hat; a hat that my mother loved. I slowly picked it up into my hands and fingered the white and black flowers. I raised the hat and intricately perched it back on top of my head. Staring back in the mirror. I saw my mother's face. Her beautiful, smiling face. And I smiled back at her. I bent down, rubbed my aching feet from standing up all day at the funeral and burial, picked up the white and black Mary Jane shoes, slipped them back on each on its respective foot, and sighed. I was so tired. There was a light knock on the door. I turned towards the door and granted the person entry.

In walked Seth's daughter; my niece. I gave her a small smile. She looked at me with big doe eyes that were so foreign to a Clearwater, but looked so classic on her. She pranced her way inside and scuffed her heel on the floor with her hands behind her back. She looked around my room with obvious wonder and awe. A clear sign that no one was in my room since I left.

"Aunt Leah?" She asked. I walked over to her and squatted the best I could in the dress I was in. Eye level with her, I could make out some freckles on her cheeks and nose.

"Yeah," she nodded and smiled. And in a flash, her stubby arms wrapped around my body and she squeezed with all her six year old might. I stood; astonished. I recovered and wrapped my arms around her slowly, embracing her in my longer, slender arms. She even smelled like Seth. I pulled away a fraction and she was smiling. She even had Seth's smile. "Daddy hugs me when I'm sad and it cheers me up. So, I'll hug you to make you happy!" She spoke with so much enthusiasm it reminded me of myself when I was her age. Innocence was truly bliss. Such ignorance to the world. Not knowing the true terrors of the world. When monsters were just creatures under your bed and not inside of us. I found myself envying her. I wanted such ignorance to the world. Most of all, she still had both parents living.

I wanted that the most.

* * *

_"Parting is all we know of Heaven, and we need in Hell"_

_Emily Dickinson_

* * *

I ignored the Green Giant in the room and focused on the little girl in front of me to know that she continued talking.

"Huh, Aunt Leah?" She asked innocently with a cock of her head to the side.

"I'm sorry, what'd you say, baby?" She huffed and rolled her eyes dramatically.

"I said, that Gran Gran jumped out her body and went to Heaven to see Richard Dawson!" She yelled jubilantly. I arched my eyebrow and was about to question her when Seth came to view with his arms crossed and interrupted.

"Aleah, mommy wants you. Go downstairs to thank people for coming with us to say bye to Gran Gran, okay?" She whipped her head around and her eyes instantly brightened when she saw her dad standing in the hallway. She ran into his legs and he bent down to pick her up and spin her around. Her laughter rang around the room like a beautiful lullaby. Giggles of the most purest form. She tossed her head back as Seth twirled her around the room. I stood up to my full height and wiped imaginary dirt off my legs. I stood awkwardly, not used to seeing my brother a father. I looked away and focused on the birds outside. Anything to stop the jealously and awkwardness rising in me.

"Sorry, about that," Seth said with a smile on his face, scratching the back of his neck, "she's obsessed with Family Feud. Ma used to watch it all the time when she watched her." I nodded numbly. He crossed his arms again over his chest, shedding his big boy clothing and turning into the boy who cried in my arms just yesterday. "Lee...?"

"Yeah?" He looked so innocent in the dim lighting of my room. Looking more lost with each passing day; searching to find himself and his way back home.

"Do you think mommy is happy?" He asked quietly laced with a double meaning. I caught his eye and smiled. A smile that a proud mother would only give her child. I nodded.

"She's proud of you, no matter what you do," I said as I walked over to him and hugged him. He buried his head in the crook of my shoulder. He let out a puff of air and squeezed. A silent gesture of thanks. He pulled away and smiled. The first genuine smile he's given me since I returned. His eyes lit up the room. His teeth were brighter. His eyes were alive. He grabbed my hand and jerked his thumb towards the hallway, leading to the stairs.

"C'mon, everyone thought you ran away," he changed the subject. I rolled my eyes and forced myself to go down the stairs to the repast; which was only a small select of close friends who knew my mother. In the small cramped space of the lower level of the house, everyone was packed inside. I didn't want to hear another; "I'm sorry" or "so sad", I just didn't want to hear another word. I wanted everyone to go away. I walked into the kitchen and found Emily keeping the food warm and checking on the deserts that were in the oven. Her baby bump was evident in the dress she wore, sticking out like a sore thumb. I stared at her as she had to accommodate every moment for the human being developing inside of her womb. With each longing gaze I gave the bump, the bigger the Green Giant grew. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought he was Goliath. Emily felt my piercing stare and she turned around and faced me. Then tension was awkward. She looked around for anything, something to help her to find something to say. I jumped the gun.

"Thank you," I murmured out awkwardly, looking away, not used to being vulnerable around her. Not used to thanking her, showing her any gratification. She didn't deserve it. But I knew, I knew my mother would make me thank her. I looked back at her to see her eyes caught in headlights. She stuttered for something to say. Her hands making awkward movements. Then she stopped, her thin lips slowly curved in a sincere smile.

"You're welcome, Leah," she said then bowed her head slightly. I saw her, and for a minute, she morphed into the cousin that was like my sister. And I found myself longing to hug her, tell my troubles, my darkest secrets. But when she smoothed her hand over her bump lovingly, she returned to the girl who stabbed a knife in my back and watched me bleed. With that, I turned on my heel and walked back into the living room.

Before I could make it all the way in the room, a hand caught my wrist and I whipped around to see Rachel holding my wrist with her head down. She looked up at me and then flew her arms around me. Her short, slender arms made a nice synthetic bed around me, smothering me with her motherly warmth. I found myself selfishly devouring that warmth. I responded and gave her a bone crushing hug. She pulled away with a breathtaking smile and she laughed.

"Oh, Leah! I missed you so much!" She said with a laugh. I tossed her a genuine smile. It was nice to smile in all this apathy.

"I missed you, too," I said calmly. She nodded and we heard a shout of: "Rachel, get yer ass over 'ere, girl!". She chuckled and crossed her arms, a familiar gesture for the Blacks. "Sorry, our reunion wasn't on better terms, but it was really nice seeing you again. I hope you're here for good and I'm always here for you," with that she walked back over to her boyfriend. I stood there watching her leave. I watched as she hugged him and he returned the favor with a firm, affectionate hug. The way he gave a special smile only for her. My gut hurled and the Green Giant grew just a bit more.

"They really love each other," a deep masculine voice said to my right, a voice that once used to moan my name, caress it with love; a voice all too familiar. It shocked me out my stupor. I turned my head to meet Sam staring at Rachel and Paul just like I did just seconds ago. He had a beer clutched in his hand and he slowly raised it up to his lips that I once died to kiss and took a hearty swig. I wanted to shoo Sam away, but I couldn't. He still had a part of me; my heart. That's the thing, you never get your heart back once when you give it away. You eventually learn how to make replicas, each one sturdier than the first and over time; you learn how to build walls. That was the art of loving and losing. I do it so well. You can say that I have a call.

I stared at his features, the hard jaw line, the 6 o' clock shadow, and the subtle way his jaw clenched periodically. He was the same Sam that has my heart; _and the Sam who never gave it back. _His gaze traveled back to me and graced me with a smoldering gaze. And I couldn't help but to think back six years ago when Sam left me.

Foolish of me. I should have known that Sam would leave me to take care of his kid. Even if it was with my cousin. He would do anything not to raise a bastard.

"I'm sorry about Janine," I murmured out, letting a small silence pass us for the unborn baby. His eyes held a certain luster for the child that died in the womb at six months. He nodded, grimly. Then he focused his eyes on his fiance and her mound of stretching flesh. With his eyes never leaving his developing child, he uttered.

"It's okay, we have hope."

* * *

_"There is neither happiness or misery in the world; there is only the comparison of one state to another, nothing more. He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness. We must of felt what is to die, Morrel, that we may appreciate the enjoyments of life..."_

_Alexandre Dumas_

* * *

Even if Sam cheated on me with my cousin and gotten her pregnant, I still found myself wanting some part of him. Anything I could find, I took it; it just so happens to be old memories of a passed, but never forgotten love. Even when Emily had her miscarriage, I wanted Sam to come crawling back to me; he didn't have to be with her anymore. She wasn't carrying his child. To think that I would believe that he would come crawling back to me when she lost the baby. But no, she still needed him. They could grieve together, only she could understand his pain. The day when he left me replaying like a broken record. Over, and over, and over again. Only if he knew, I would've died for him. But now, all I wanted was nothing more to hate him. Just to forgive wouldn't make me nearly as happy as it would to hate him.

"Tell me Sam," I started up. He turned back to me and arched one of his eyebrows, "did I drive you away?" I asked. He continued to stare for a while then he turned back to Emily.

His precious, fucking Emily.

"No, she dragged me to her," he said as he took another swig of the beer in his hands, "love is a fickle, bitch," Sam said as he ran one of his rough hands, that once used to caress my buxom, in his hair. His beautiful, unruly hair. His eyes haze with easing intoxication that's about to take over his body. He hooked his hand in his belt loop and began to make his way to his beloved. He looks back lazily and replies, "I hope she's kind to you." He tossed me one of his genuine smiles that used to be for me. But, I can't help but wonder how many he tosses at Emily. I watched his retreating back with intense fixation. I watched as he swooped down and placed a tender kiss on her cheek and how the blood slowly rushed to her face.

Not wanting my glass heart to crack, I rushed outside on the porch. The sofa becoming my new haven. Welcoming me with soft touches and a place to worry my troubles. I looked up at the sky and noticed how the sun was hiding from behind the clouds. I kicked the shoes off my aching feet and curled my body on the sofa. I thought of everything. I thought of my mother's funeral. I thought of Sam and Emily. I though of Aleah; Seth...

"I figured I'd find you here," a husky voice boomed that sent shivers down my spine.

"I needed a breath of fresh air," I muttered in the soft cushions of the sofa. He walked over to me and then sat down beside my head. I instantly inhaled his musky scent that became an acquired taste. Jacob sat back and clucked his tongue.

"You can't always run away from your problems." He didn't have to elaborate for me to get the hidden message. I ignored the all too familiar sensation of guilt that bubbled within me. I didn't say anything to counter his bitter statement. He lifted his hips and dug in his back pocket to pull out an envelope. He shoved the paper in my face. "Here, read it before you go to bed tonight." I took the manilla envelope and rove my eyes over his chicken scratch. I studied his penmanship. A blob of ink on the top leg of the _L _in Leah glared out that he was indecisive on whether or not to give me the letter. I nodded at his request and tucked the envelope tightly against my body.

We sat in a comfortable silence. I idly watched as Jacob rubbed his right hand over his left with obliviousness. Jacob let out a pained breath.

"Why'd you leave, Leah? _Why'd you leave me?"_ The words rushed out his mouth like word vomit. I sat stunned at his forwardness and had every intention of not answering him. _"Why?" _He asked pained. His words slicing through me like butter, the sheer vulnerability in his words had an edge of desperateness.

"Personal issues, Jacob," I lied with a slight bite to my tone letting him know that I wasn't going to tell him. He clenched his fists and sprang out of his seat.

"Cut the bullshit, Leah!" He yelled. I shot up and I jabbed my finger in his face. His jaw was clenched. His eyebrows narrowed. And his beautiful, deep chocolate eyes were slits. I felt the hot air from his nose on my face.

"Lower your fucking tone, Jacob. This is my mother's repast. Show some respect," I hissed. I stared him down, my own anger getting the best of me. I could feel the fire burning in my veins, my blood slowly warming. Jacob's eyes searched mine for something, anything plausible to grab. He gripped my shoulders too tightly; the fire dying in him like a last ember. He hung his head low and I could see just how tired Jacob was. He lifted his head and I could see he was giving up. Giving up on me. On reality.

"Leah, why did you leave _me_? _I love you_," he said in a hushed whisper lowering his head in the crook of my neck. He gripped my waist and pulled my flesh against his. I could feel his wet, hot trail of tears swimming their way down my chest. I hugged him to my body. _  
_

"I went to California to get an abortion," I slipped out in an inaudible whisper, but Jacob caught it. His head snapped up, pushed me away roughly, and his eyes glittered with surprise and unconcealable anger. He shook his head slowly as if this was all a dream—a bitter nightmare—and that he would wake up, and this would be all over. That I didn't come back and ruin his life.

"Wha-? Who? No, no, no," he trailed off. Denying everything. "Was it mine?" I allowed my tears to claim my face once more. I choked on my sobs. My hand flew to my mouth. The tears continued fall like raindrops. I could see the thunder. The pains of my past coming up to haunt me in my consciousness. My mistakes never leave me alone. "_Answer me!_" He roared. I flinched at the raw emotions spilling out of Jacob. I stared as his body was tense and his eyes feral. A raw rage and I was on the blunt end of it. I cried openly. My cries filling the air around us. Echoing the space around us like a bloody massacre. I nodded my head ruefully.

His face suddenly changed. His eyebrows furrowed into his eyes and a vicious snarl on his lips. I was utterly and truly frightened.

"_Why?!"_ And the tears on my face were no longer just raindrops, it stormed. I wailed. Jacob heaved.

"I was still in love with Sam!" I bursted out; defending my past actions. "How would it look if I was carrying another man's bastard child?! I couldn't get it done here! I couldn't have another man's baby! We weren't even together!" My voice broke, a sob. I couldn't go back home at the time. Eventually, I made a living for myself there. Started a new life. Got my degree in journalism. Worked for the local newspaper; made a name for myself. I enjoyed my life in San Diego. My voice softened, "I'm so sorry, Jacob. I'm so, so, so sorry," I shook my head slowly to the side. My mouth open and I had to find my voice. My will to speak. "But I couldn't." I hushed out, the pain tearing my soul apart. My stomach curled at memory of having a child ripped out; my child. A child that I killed. And a hunting voice in the back of mind shouted in a bloody, mind shattering tone.

_Murderer!_

I fell unto Jacob. He wrapped his arms around me loosely. His chin propped on my shoulder. His chest heaving with every shattered cry that shout out. He shook his head and backed us up against the outside of the house. He drooped his head lower and punched the brick beside my face. Debris flew. Blood oozed out his skin, running faster than a faucet. His fist stayed against the wall and I slapped my hands over my ears and slid down mercifully. What a tragedy I've created. Jacob dropped down on his knees pitifully.

"Why can't I hate you? I want to hate you so much, but I _can't,_" he proclaimed in a heartbroken whisper. I could hear the echo of his heart shattering. I placed my clammy hands on his cheeks and I brought his face to mine and touched his forehead with my own. I whispered sorrowful nothings.

Jacob continued to cry.

It was the most hopeless song.

He lifted his head up and his eyes met mine. Staring at me like a lost little boy, he uttered in a broken voice that was so foreign to me; my ears bled.

"Does this pain ever go away?"

* * *

_"...Live, then, and be happy, beloved children of my heart, and never forget, that until the day God will deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is contained in these two words, 'Wait and Hope'."_

_Alexandre Dumas _

* * *

The skies never did clear up.

* * *

Author's Note: *takes a swig of alcohol* This was hard to write. I don't even think I like this chapter. It's, just, I don't know. I had so many outcomes of this chapter, it could have been its own story.

I don't know if anyone knows this or not, but reservations have their own laws. I just so happened to make La Push make abortions illegal, so that's why I made her leave. :) .

Someone PMed me and asked what was one of the symbols I use in this story, well, one major symbol is the sky. I'm not going to give away what it means just yet, but I just thought I'd let you know to look out about what the sky is doing.


	4. Lovely Bloodflow

Author's Note: Damn, sorry for the late update. Senior year started and it's been crazy and trying to find the right emotion for this chapter was pretty difficult. I think I got it though. I would like to say thank you to everyone who reviewed, you guys seriously make my day every with every single review. They're all very encouraging and your interest in this story is what makes me continue.

Also: Enormous amount of thanks to my Beta Reader: _xxdevilishxx_.

And to _roxymari.28: _I think you got your wish.

Another Note: This shifts point of view from Leah's to Jake's. You will **always **know when the point of view changes. I always start the opening paragraph of Jake's point of view in **bold. **Leah's will always be regular, sans bold, sans italics. I hope this won't confuse anyone in the near future.

* * *

Europa

* * *

**Leah said the pain never goes away. **

I believed her. My heart burned. I could have been a father, held a precious child in my arms that was all mine. We sat in a bundle of limbs, my forehead resting against her chest; her soft scent radiating off her buxom, and her back against the wall, staring into the night-time sky. The moon just recently drowned the sun—the moon not quite awake—and its dark abyss filled the earth. After our scene, people quickly fled the house. The cluttered noise of our shouting forcing people to leave. The tension threatening to asphyxiate the people inside the house. I vaguely heard Rachel yelling. Leah grabbed a pack of cigarettes that were on a little stand next to the sofa, she grabbed a stick, stuck it in her mouth, lit it, and inhaled the nicotine. Her black hat laying haphazardly off her head. The intoxicating fumes snaking its way down my nose, burning my nostrils. I always did hate the smell of cigarettes.

Even after her confession, I couldn't bring myself to hate her like I wanted. It sure would make things to forget her easily. I was outraged. I wanted to pull my hair out, thrash her around until she felt an ounce of what was coursing through my body. But I could never hate her. It takes a heart to hate. She stole my heart ruthlessly and kept it captive. They say home is where the heart is; but she's had it in the palm of her hand from the very first night she and I indulged in each other. Where I still keep pictures of her under my bed.

"I almost forgot the color of your eyes," I murmured in the murky air. The moon started to awake, shining some light in the abyss. The stars didn't even come out to play.

What a depressing night.

How is one supposed to feel when they just realize that their first child is dead; cause its mother killed it. Leah told me to pretend you can't feel at all—that's how you numb the pain, but I wasn't numb. I felt it all. Every pang. Every pinch. Every stab. Every shot in the dark for me; and it never missed. Anything was better than this massive slaughter of emotions that seemed to hypnotize me and hold me captive. _I felt the world. _I wanted to ask her more. I needed to know more.

"How far along?"

"Three months; two days, seven hours, forty-six minutes, thirty-three seconds." She whispered it robotically as she blew the line of smoke out of her mouth. I could smell the nicotine on her breath. Mingling with each other to form a bitter smell. Just like that, I wish I could have taken that question away. I wish I never knew that she used to carry my child. I wouldn't be feeling this way now. Ignorance is bliss. Knowledge is hell. She spoke back up, not once allowing her voice to shatter the eerie silence that drowned us. "Do you hate me now, Jake? More than you did yesterday?"

"It takes a heart to hate," I whispered out harshly; my voice cracking periodically in between, "you ripped that away from me six years ago." She didn't say anything. She just nodded her head once and turned away from me. I could see the glistening race on her cheeks; the left side was winning. My hands snaked their way up her sides, brushing her breasts, the roamed to her shoulders to feel the goosebumps rise ever-so-slightly and the hairs come to attention, my fingertips whispered over her neck all the way up to her cheeks to bring her face towards mine. Her hazel eyes, that I was on the brink of forgetting, glittered with tears that were already racing down her face. My thumbs rubbed circles on her cheeks brushing her tears away.

She, too, slid her hands up my chest, making a rippling effect throughout my body; erupting butterflies that have been a six-year too long coma. She traced her nimble fingers over my arms, my shoulders, my neck; even going as far as to finger the hair at the nape of my neck. My body was a mass of tingles. A sensation that I haven't felt in so long, it was foreign. Her hands came to rest on my cheeks, brushing off the tears that I didn't even know were forming. Together, our tears chanted a melancholy song. Echoing louder than the fat woman singing.

"Why are you doing this to me? Why come back now? I loved you, I loved you, I loved you, and I loved you. _I love you._ And you haven't even left yet and you already broke my heart again," I whispered, feeling the familiar pang of loss wash over me. Taking me under water, to the deep end. It felt as if I was that five-year old boy again who lost his mother.

But hey, I should be used to it. Every woman I ever loved left me.

* * *

_"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal..."_

_C.S. Lewis_

* * *

_I jumped off the yellow school bus at the stop sign and looked back to wave at Mrs. Rundy. She gave a keen smile and closed the buses doors and pulled off. I looked up at the cloudy sky and frowned. It was going to rain today and I wouldn't be able to go outside to play with funky Quil and lame Embry. I grunted and trudged my way on to my house where I knew my mommy was waiting for me to grab my left hand, rub it like she always does, and tell her how my day at school went. I smiled and made my way home with a little pep in my step, anxious to see my mommy. _

_Maybe there would be cookies on the table when I get home. _

_I hiked up my backpack and walked two blocks down from the bus stop, around the corner and to the house. At the sight of the red house, I ran._

_"Mommy! Mommy! __Mommy! __Mommy!" I chanted, I knew she would hear me and meet me on the porch; like she always does. I ran up the driveway expecting my mommy to walk out the door, but she didn't. It didn't bother me. I busted the door open with bang. "__Mommy!" I called out to her as I dropped my backpack off and kicked my shoes off. _

_______I checked the table by the door for my cookies, but there wasn't any. I pouted. Had I been a bad boy? I tried to think the best I could to see if I did anything wrong, but nothing popped up. I rubbed my left hand, nervously. I walked into the living room to see my daddy, and Rachel, and Becca on the sofa. My daddy had his hands on his knees like he usually did when he was on his knees at night. I cocked my head to the side, not used to seeing my family like this — and where was mommy? I walked over to my daddy and placed my hand on his shoulder and bent down to look at him under his bowed head. Thunder cracked. _

_______He was crying!_

_______I have never seen daddy cry. Big boys don't cry and daddy and I, are big boys. _

_______"Daddy," I murmured, not used to seeing my daddy like this. It was making my tummy drop. I nudged him. He didn't move. I nudged him again and he slowly raised his head to look at me. Daddy's eyes were red. My own eyes widened. I gasped. "Daddy! Why are you cryin'?" I asked. I looked over to see Rachel and Becca on the sofa with tissues and puffy eyes. They had been crying too. I rubbed my left hand not realizing it. _

_______"Jake, my boy," my daddy said, "there's something you need to know," he croaked. _

_______"O-kay, daddy," I nodded. I paused, "But daddy! Where's mommy! I need to tell her about my day~!" I whined. My daddy turned his head to the side, his long black hair like mine wiped like it does in the wind. Like mine did. But before my daddy could say another word, Becca blurted out:_

_______"MOMMY'S NOT COMING BACK!" I whirled my head toward her like it does when we get on the teacup rides at the amusement park. I was about to yell at her and tell her what a dum-dum she is, but my daddy took my hand in his. My eyes met my daddy's and he nodded his head. _

_______"Jake, she's-" he broke, "gone." _

_______"Wha?—" I asked. I don't get it. Where did she go? Why would she leave me and not take me with her? "Well," I dragged on, "when is she coming back?"_

_______"She's not coming back, Jake. Mommy is gone." My world stopped. It was like a movie on pause. I could feel the tears stinging my eyes, my bottom lip shaking, and my tummy rolling. _

_______"**Mommy!**" I screamed. I want my mommy back. I want 'er back. I ran around the house tossing dishes around in the kitchen. I ran upstairs to my room and looked under my bed, my pillow, in Mr. Poppy, in my closet with the monsters, in my drawers. I ran into Rachel and Becca's room and searched for my mommy. In my mommy and daddy's room, I looked under the bed, in the sheets, in the closet, the bathroom, the dresser; everywhere! I couldn't find my mommy. My mommy was gone. I stumbled back down the stairs and tripped over my own two feet and quickly got back up again, running to my daddy. Not my mommy. I stood in the middle of the living room, staring at my sisters and my daddy. We were all hurting here._

_______________Rachel stood up and handed me a white handkerchief with strawberries printed on it, and at the bottom right hand corner of the handkerchief with the initials: S.B. embroidered. I clutched it to my chest. It still smelled like her._

_______________"J-ake," Rachel spoke, "it'll be okay," she hugged me. _

_______In my sister's hug, I looked into my daddy's eyes that were sparkling. A grown up that never did anything but smile, was now crying. I was hurt. I wanted to cry, too. So, I did. _

_______I cried._

_______And I cried. _

_______And I never hurt more that day than I have ever in my whole~ entire life. _

_______I close my eyes._

_______And I open them back up._

_______My mommy still **left** **me**._

_______I hugged her tighter._

* * *

_______"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my eyes and all is born again."  
_

_______Slyvia Plath_

* * *

"Old habits die hard," her pungent words broke me out of my reverie, her slender hands continued to stroke my cheeks in a slow motion; a silent lullaby, and she leaned her forehead against mine. "Would you believe me if I said I'm sorry?" she whispered so softly. Like a toddler, I nodded my head slowly. As if she was my mommy, my beautiful mommy and I was innocent; when I never had to remember when times were better. I looked up to her and her lips formed a straight line; the corners quivering ever so slightly. She nodded once and looked away. My hands never left her face; her beautiful face.

"I want to break your heart just like you broke mine," I whispered softly, just barely audible for her ears to capture. Her head turned to me. A pause. She broke out into a bitter smile, it was the most hideous sight I've ever witnessed.

"I wouldn't want it any other way," she titled her head up with the same bitter smile on her face and stared at the faceless moon. I too looked up and watched as the moon mingled with the stars to enchant the night. I wonder if people in airplanes are really that much closer to heaven. I sighed. It was getting late and I had to wrap up a bleeding heart. Tomorrow is a busy day.

Nessie is flying home tomorrow.

* * *

_"...Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable." _

_C.S. Lewis_

* * *

Author's Note: Yes, this one is shorter than the other chapters, but I consider it a little introduction into Jacob. The chapters would vary in size depending on how I feel like I can best depict what is supposed to be going on in the scene. I'm not going to add just random junk into a chapter to make it long if it doesn't need it, that's pointless, a waist of my time, and just plain stupid.

I hope that this gave you guys a satisfying taste. As always, I foreshadowed the shit out of this. If you all catch it, then, you guys seriously rock.

Last note: a lot of people want to know what's up with Jacob's hand, no he isn't married, Leah definitely would have noticed the ring. It has a deeper meaning than that.

Oh, and,


	5. The Coming of Man

Author's Note: So, um, I guess there's no explanation for this huge, huh? Well. I've been applying to colleges, living the senior life, the likes... Yeah, that's all I've got.

**Anonymous Review Responses:**

_Paidinsingles: _You say that "The mommys and daddys have to stop even if Sue and Harry are dead" and that "they are too old for that and Seth got a chick knocked up he's not a baby and lost his childhood by his own stupidity." Well, my response to this is that losing a mother or father is hard no matter how old someone gets. They will always have the nostalgic urge to call them "mommy" or "daddy" because it takes them back to a time when they had both parents and which is usually when they are younger that they remember both parents. And furthermore, I don't think anyone is too old to call a mom or dad, mommy and daddy. Also, yes Seth did get someone pregnant at the age of 16. And most of the teenage parents that I know personally always talk about how they're still a child and wish for that sense of innocence. Then you said in your review, "Why is eveything said like it's supposed to be poetic or something. Not syaing this is bad but that was erking me." Well, I'm sorry? I don't intentionally make everything sound like its supposed to be poetic. That is simply my writing style. I'm not going to simply say: I hate Jacob. But I love Jacob. I'm going to smoke. I smoke the cigarette.

I do appreciate you taking the time to read my story. I hope you can get passed my "poetic" lines and continue to read my story. If not, that's your choice.

Also, to my anonymous reader who said: "this is one of the best Blackwater fanfiction i have ever read. youre such an amazing writer and the way you capture emotions is so fantastic i am lost for words." **I love you. **What a beautiful comment. Really.

And for clarification: this is All Human. Some people keep asking me why is Leah still not over Sam. Well, you have to take into consideration, Sam didn't imprint on Emily in this story. He chose to cheat on her, he chose Emily. In my opinion that is worse than an imprint. Someone choosing to cheat on you. That's why she's still not over it. Does anyone truly let go of someone who they loved, got an abortion for?

Leah's point of view always starts off with no bold, no italics, just plain ol' regular font. Jacob's point of view will always start off in **bold. **

I think this is the end of this authors note. Sorry.

* * *

Europa

* * *

Jacob left me paralyzed.

I sat on the hard, wooden floor of the backyard patio. Cigarette in hand, mind a million miles away. Not once did it look back. I brought the cigarette to my lips and took a hearty inhale. I sighed. I continued to remind myself that he would have found out either way. It was bound to happen. It was bound to happen. He would have found out either way. Fate happened. What a fucking bitch.

I did not dare to show my face in the house. My embarrassment, my shame from my fight with Jacob. Our shouting match traveled through eavesdropping ears. In the eyes of the Rez, I'm a murderer. I broke the law. I killed my child.

I watched as the darkness reigned the sky and I found myself wanting to get lost in its depths. Jacob left me all but five minutes go and my glass heart had a new crack. My heart sped up, pounding my chest, beating me, and twisting like a horrid crux. Speeding faster in a way that I've never felt before. But somehow, it felt oddly, sensationally numb. A feeling so foreign, I can only chalk it up to regret spiked with self-loathing.

_I want to break you just like you broke me._

His words embedded in my brain, built a home, and took shelter. Overriding any coherent thought I possessed. It was on constant replay, repeating like a mantra until I memorized each way he said every syllable, the curvature of his lips. His beautiful lips that I once dared to kiss. Lips that used to travel across my body and gently touch mine; like the ocean that kisses the beach.

A part of me welcomed his pain, his oncoming torture. Because I know that deep down, I broke Jacob just like Sam broke me. And I did it intentionally. I wanted to break Jacob in the worse way possible. I wanted to rip his heart to shreds, torch it, stone it, and watch it die slowly. I wanted another human being to feel what I felt. Another part of me just wanted him to fix me; patch me and kiss my bruises. Love me. Only if it is a fraction. Just so I know what it feels like again.

I looked over to my right and found the white envelope with my name scribbled on it; just under the sofa. I leaned over and grasped the crisp paper in my hands and rove my fingers over Jacob's scribble. I flipped it over and curled my fingers under the seal and ripped it apart. I slowly took out the line paper, unfolded the hamburger style folds, and was reunited with Jacob's boyish scribble:

_Leah,_

_I wanted to write you this long, beautiful sonnet to show you how much I missed you, but I couldn't. So, I just settled for, "I won't let you escape me again."  
_

_Forever yours,_

_Jake _

I read; every plain scribble, every dotted "I", and crossed "T". Except for one sentence that was bolder than the rest, the very last sentence. I rested my head against the plywood of the house and sighed. I clutched Jacob's letter to my chest and kept it right over my heart. My skin creating goosebumps on my neck, my arms, my back; just at the thought of Jacob and I. The sheer concept of an "us".

I heard the back door creak open, croaking like an owl in the ominous night. I expected Seth to come out to talk about what happened between Jacob and I, but instead I was greeted with Carmen. My baby brother's girlfriend. The mother of his child. I looked up at her as she stepped out of the house. Her slim, lithe body looked worn and tired. Her eyes bared slight bags under them, but her eyes. Her eyes managed to shine. Her caramel skin was lackluster, but I found my eyes trailing back to her eyes. She looked _so tired_, so _damn_ tired. But her eyes were so _alive_. It was enchanting. I stared at her as she handed me a pink and purple blanket that I realized was my old blanket. The same blanket that Jacob gave me when we were little for my fifth birthday. I took the blanket quietly.

She didn't say anything for all but ten seconds before she quietly asked if she could sit down. Her voice no louder than a quiet murmur. I nodded my head and felt her body heat as she sat next to me. I wrapped the blanket around my shoulders. Finding myself strolling down memory lane. Carmen's soft voice broke me out of my trance.

"No one hates you, you know?" She stated as she watched the trees sway in the night time. I knew what she was referring to; to my abortion. My fight with Jacob that all of La Push heard. I clenched my teeth. "I thought about it too; abortion. The thought of ridding myself from the burden of being sixteen and pregnant..." She trailed off, her voice dying in the atmosphere, before she revived it and continued, "I lied to Seth," she said with a bitter laugh, "I told him I was on the pill. That was the first time we've ever done it. Having sex. They say it only takes one time. But I wanted it so much, I was peer pressured. All my friends were having sex and there I was, little ol' Carmen. Never had sex. Never been kissed. Never had a boyfriend. And along came Seth," she whispered with a smile on her face and the memory replaying in her mind, "he was so charming. He held doors open for me. He kissed my forehead, my hands. He was the epitome of chivalry. I was enamored. I fell for him two months later. Five months later, I'm laying under him and we're conceiving a child.

"I felt terrible when I found out I was pregnant. I told myself I was going to abort this baby and run away. Never look back, because that's what people would do to me. I would be the laughing stock. Imagine, goody goody Carmen pregnant at sixteen with a minister for a father," she scoffed, "I surely couldn't tell my dad, I was afraid Seth was going to be angry and tell me to abort it-" I cut her off.

"Seth would _never _have told you to kill that baby," I seethed. I turned to her and glared. She smiled knowingly and nodded.

"No, of course not. That's why I _did_ tell him. He didn't say anything for the longest time, it felt like hours when it was really only all but two minutes. It was like he knew exactly what to do. I could tell he was scared, though. We told Sue and she cried," I flinched, "I will never forget that day, she cried and hugged Seth so tight. It was beautiful. I had never been more thankful for Seth than any one in my life... Even if he does resent me for getting pregnant and lying to him, I don't ever regret Seth being the father. I couldn't have picked a better man. I love him. I love my child. I love my family-" I cut her off again. I was seething. What was she trying to get at? Was she trying to make me feel worse. Rub her perfect fucking family in my face?

"Cut the shit. What the hell are you getting at?" I asked and she looked a little taken aback before she returned to smiling slightly.

"I just wanted you to know that no one hates you. We all unders-"

"No, you guys don't understand shit. I murdered my child because I didn't want to have another man's baby while I was still in love with another. So, don't tell me you understand. Because you don't. Right now, you're not fucking helping. Okay? So, back the fuck _off_." I finished. Huffing a little. She was silent and I could hear the soft sound of her gulping and I saw from the corner of my eye as she tensed her back and finally resulted to nodding.

"My father used to preach to the congregation that everything happens for a reason. That God has a plan for every one us. Do you believe in God, Leah?" She asked. I looked up into the sky, searching for this so called God, this man- spirit. Who did what for me? Abandon me when I needed him the most. Curse me. Cast me down with his other sinners. And I'm just supposed to love him with my undying breath, and believe in him for the rest of my life? And I spoke with the honest truth.

"No, not anymore." With that Carmen stood and brushed the imaginary dirt off her outfit that she wore all day. She turned to me and smiled. And bags under her eyes and all, her eyes still shined. And once more the little Green Giant possessed me. She put her hand on the handle of the back door. Before she opened the door, I found myself in word vomit. The words spilling from my mouth before I could stop myself. Slipping out of my mouth like grains of sand slipping through your fingers.

"Do you believe in God?" I asked her. How idiotic that sounded. Asking the preacher's daughter if she believed in God. She cocked her head to the side and closed her eyes. Almost as if she was repeating this for the millionth time. Like, a mantra.

"All saints are sinners, but not all sinners are saints... Goodnight, Leah," And she opened the door and shut it silently behind her.

I turned my attention away from the door that Carmen walked through. The warm summers night filled the earth, encroached my senses and made a warm blanket for me and I sat there staring at the trees sway. The movement hypnotizing me like a clock in my face. Heard the owls coo and the crickets chirp. My own personal lullaby for the night. The soothing rhapsodies working like novacane and lulled me to sleep. To idly wander to a place where times were better. Where it shined all day long.

Slowly, but surely Mr. Sandman lulled me to a blissful slumber. Helping my escape route to the Land of the Nod. To loose myself, run from reality. Leave the earth. I inhaled the nostalgic scent of the blanket that encased me. Tingling my senses, and slaughtering my memories of Jacob. I buried my face in the blanket. I breathed in once more for good measure.

That night, I dreamt of Jacob and a little girl.

* * *

_"Think you're escaping and run into yourself. Longest way round is the shortest way home."_

_James Joyce_

* * *

**I stood there waiting.**

With a bouquet of lilies in my hands, I subconsciously rubbed my hands against each other, awaiting her arrival. I had gotten to the airport about an hour ago. She was the only thing that distracted me from Leah; from her heart wrenching confession. Imagine, it was over twelve hours ago, but it felt like it just happened two minutes ago. It was pitiful how she hadn't even left yet, and she still managed to break my heart into a million glass shards. All tipped with the sharpest edge.

I mindlessly watched as people embraced their loved ones on their safe journey back to them. I spotted a man that looked like he was only a few years older than me with a bouquet of roses and sunflowers in his hand. He stood there looking rather anxious for who ever he was meeting. I stared as his face lit up and drop down on one knee. I diverted my attention to what he was staring at and gawked as a little girl with long curly black hair with a purple bow perched on the top of her head came running. Intently, I gazed as she giggle and practically threw herself into her father's arms. And the intricate way his wrapped around her small frame. He kissed her on her cheek and gave her the sunflowers that were behind his back. Slowly, he stood up. Greeted his wife with a kiss on her cheek, then her lips. He gave her the roses which she took with a smile and wrapped his arms around her and held his daughter's hand to guide them home.

I couldn't help but eye the little family. My mind immediately switching the little family of three for Leah and I and our child that never was. Who I imagined who looked just like that little girl. I pictured me greeting Leah as she came back from Los Angeles, or wherever the hell she went, with a child trailing behind her to reunite with me. It was the perfect scenario that etched out in my head. I felt the catipilar cacoons erupt into to butterflies in the pit of my stomach. My heart continues to beat for the woman that left six years ago. But I also had to remember that my heart is beating in a different way than it did six years ago. She's been gone such a long time, but it feels the same. It was all too perfect, and I had to remind myself that life isn't fair.

And she spared no one.

* * *

_"Everything you could imagine is true."_

_Pablo Picasso_

* * *

**I stared at the escalators waiting for a mop of scarlet, red hair to surface.**

Slowly, but surely I saw her hair surface the top of the escalator. I stared intently as she rove her eyes around the airport looking for me. In a sea of people, she only had eyes for me. As she spotted me, I was blinded by her brilliant smile.

"Nessie," I breathed.

Just watching the breathtaking smile form on her face, made my day. I watched, wistfully, as her eyes brightened and she ran over to me. It seemed like slow motion; the way she ran over to me. For in this moment, I was wanted. She wanted me, just as bad as I wanted someone. And nothing could compare to this moment. I opened my arms to catch her flaking into my arms. As soon as her small body made contact with mine, I arms flew around her waist and twirled her around in my arms. Inhaling her strawberry scent.

Security.

With her, I know my heart will never be broken. She will always keep it safe inside a little treasure chest locked inside of her, locked with a skeleton key. She is, and forever will be my security.

Crushing the lilies in between. She giggled harmoniously like the Moonlight Sonata and I was entranced. I stared as her eyes crinkled and her nose scrunched up in a way that was only attractive on her. I pulled away and kissed her on her cheek. Then her forehead. A soft rosy hue took place on her cheeks and she giggled.

I gave her the lilies and she smiled and sniffed them. Her eyes closing in the euphoric smell. Her eyes slowly opened.

"I missed you," she said with the same cheerfulness she always held. I pecked her cheek again.

"I missed you, too," I said as I grabbed her hand and her luggage and escorted her out of the airport. Along the way to the car, we made mindless chatter about sweet nothings. My hand intertwined with her soft, olive, creamy hand that was just too small to cover my whole entire hand. I rubbed my thumb over her flesh and reveled in the delicateness of it. Periodically, I would steal glances at her as we were walking to the car. And listen, halfheartedly, as she talked about school and her mother. Only nodding where nodding was due.

Once we reached my car, I opened the trunk, put her luggage in, opened the door for her, and got in the driver's seat. I revved the engine and listened to our serene silence that was soothing and comfortable. I spared a glance at her as I pulled out of the airport parking lot. She caught me and flashed her pearly white teeth at me.

I grasped her hand again with my right one and clutched the steering wheel with my left. I could feel her golden, amber eyes bore into my skin causing my heart to constrict. She didn't move, she continued to stare and slowly brought her hand to rest on my right cheek. I slowly gave in to her touch. And I could see a ghost of a smile on her face. Her fingers grazing my face. We could have sat like that for hours. Breaking the silence, Nessie spoke faintly.

"I love you, Jacob."

And just like that, our serenity was shattered. Never had we said that to each other. I wanted to tell her that I didn't love her like she loved me. And probably never would. That I unwillingly gave my heart to another and had no intentions of getting it back. But she didn't need to know that. I couldn't break her heart because I was suffering. God only knows how badly I wanted to. To see if it was as pleasurable as Leah makes breaking hearts seem. I clenched my teeth and uttered:

"Don't give me your heart because I'm going to break it."

I didn't have to hear the screeching cries of her virgin heart breaking to know that I just broke her.

* * *

_"How frail the human heart must be - a mirrored pool of thought."_

_Sylvia Plath_

* * *

Author"s Note: *gulps down some whiskey* THIS WAS SO HARD TO WRITE. I'm sorry it came out like shit. I just couldn't find the right words to say. I hope you forgive me. Either way, the next chapter will be ten times better. It's just transitioning from something so dramatic as the last chapter to the actual plot line.

I really, really, really am sorry that this is poop.


	6. Intensity in Ten Cities

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews everyone! You all are seriously amazing for reading this. I'm really sorry this is so late, I really had every intention of updating forever ago, but life happened. Unfortunately.

Guys, let me just say that I'm not sure if I'm good at writing lemons, no one has told me otherwise, but no one said it was good either. Cause, I know this fandom is famous for it's lemons and you guys might just roll your eyes at this. So, just a fair warning to the wise. If anyone has any pointers for me on writing them, that would be greatly appreciated. After all, I am here to grow as well as a writer.

Another Note: This shifts point of view from Leah's to Jake's. You will **always **know when the point of view changes. I always start the opening paragraph of Jake's point of view in **bold. **Leah's will always be regular, sans bold, sans italics. I hope this won't confuse anyone in the near future.

* * *

Europa

* * *

**"Harder."**

Harder I indulged. I could feel the building tension swell up within my stomach, down my shaft. Pulsating through my veins. I could feel the ecstasy running rampant through my spine, my head, my erect penis. I was ruthless against her soft flesh. I relished the sound of our smacking flesh, her soft whimpers of pleasure. My balls smacking her round bottom in a sounding _smack!_.She fluttered her eyes closed as each wave of pleasure wracked her body. Her lithe form arching under my touch. Her red lacquered fingernails scraping my back. Each scratch leaving a tingling sensation, rippling through my body. Running wild like a lion in his prime. In the pale moonlight, her womanhood was throbbing against mine. I could feel the walls of her essence clench onto me. Holding me tightly like a crux. Her mouth was slightly parted open into a tiny "O" shape. I took the time to slam my lips over hers, meld our lips together to create something beautiful, delve my tongue into her open mouth. My tongue darting against hers. Tasting the inside of her mouth. Taking her lips in between my teeth and yanked. She all too willingly let me dominate her.

I pulled out from her flower, my stinger ready to insert her once more, with a ragged breath, I plunged into her. She screamed. She ran her fingers through my hair, grasping onto the frayed ends, yanking them away from the root. The feeling was maddening. My eyes rolled to the back of my head. I started to pant. I could see her beautiful russet skin underneath my own. Together creating a magical embrace. I continued to rock my body against hers in a fast, but steady pace; wanting to savor the feeling of me inside her.

Tensions were rising. She began to buckle underneath me. Her toes curled and she started to shake under my touch. I gripped her hips, a little to hard, leaving black and blue bruises, and kept her in place. I indulged in the slick, wet folds of her vagina. Her freshly epilation between her thighs brushed against my shaft in a mind numbing, perverse gratification. My dick twitched. Her head started to roll around, her eyes nodding to the back of her head. Deep, guttural noises escaped her lips.

"J-ake," she breathed in my ear as she nibbled on my lobe. Her hot saliva burned like acid on my flesh. I buried my nose into her neck, biting down on her russet flesh. My molars creating little indentures in her epidermis. The smell of cinnamon and woods drifted into my nose. It sent a burning desire through my body, thanked with a feral moan that vibrated off my chest onto her breasts. A welcoming scent that only reminded me of home. "Deeper," she begged, "use me," she pleaded. I quickened my speed, I could feel myself about to burst within her. She was flirting with her orgasm herself. I gyrated my hips on hers. The friction creating a warm blanket to coat us. I fisted a handful of her beautiful, lushes hair. She moaned in response. My body was on fire with every fervent touch her fingers graced my back. She was clawing my back. Begging me to go faster; give her what she desired, make her cum. The bile was growing in my gut with each quick stroke, my intestines fastening like laces; intolerable to fucking handle. The only things that could be heard in the stillness of the night was smacking flesh and breathless gasps.

"Le-ah," I gasped.

I trailed one of my hands down her body, coming in contact with her rosy bud, I roughly flickered it, inducing her climax. I stared, dazed, as her mouth parted slightly with a strangled moan trying to ravage its way through her pink lips and her hazel eyes closed in sheer bliss; barely making an audible sound. I moved faster. And faster. And I could have fucking sworn the Holy doves were moving, too. I ground my penis into her clenching walls. Her back arched. She bucked her hips up. In the distance, thunder cracked. She breathed. Lightning flashed. She came. The rain _pit, pit, patter, _on the window. I sowed my seed.

Her fluids stained the black bed sheets. I kept myself above her, letting my head droop down, feeling the miniscule beads of sweat drip off my face. In the intoxication of my climax, I saw her hazel eyes flutter open and her chest with her round mounds heaved up and down. I ungracefully rolled off her sweating body, and threw my hands over my eyes. My breathing eluding me. I worked double time to catch my breath. I felt her shift and I moved my arm over to see her back facing me.

"_Nessie_," she breathed, "my name is Nessie."

* * *

_"Sex is the consolation you have when you can't have love."_

_Gabriel Garcia Marquez_

* * *

**And suddenly**, she wasn't the dark haired, russet skinned, fearless woman in front of me anymore. She was Nessie. The girl who I had just bedded. And pitifully, I couldn't say anything. What was I supposed to say? Sorry? For What? She asked for this:

_The car ride was painfully silent._

_It wasn't the silence of silence; it was the silence of a broken heart._

_A silence I'm all too fond of._

_I could see Nessie's heart bleeding; every knife that I __penetrated_ her with. Her face turned to the window, not bothering to spare another pitiful glance towards me. Once the words sputtered from my lips, seeping faster than water through your fingertips, I couldn't force myself to apologize. I couldn't allow myself to feel sympathy for the girl to my right. I only wanted to fuck her, but then she got greedy and wanted me to love her. I will never love her and maybe that's the most pitiful thing about this irony.

_Her arms crossed her meager breasts, fingers polished lacquered red, guarding her heart; physically and mentally. Her cheeks were stained with tears that were once shed. Such a fragile and weak soul she has. She was as delicate as a porcelain china doll, precious as she was. I was afraid to damage her more than I already had. She was so young, so free, so pure. She wasn't tainted like the rest of the garbage in this town. I assume that's what attracted me to her. The forbidden fruit that God placed in front of me to challenge me; to tempt me._

_Nessie's shattered voice murdered the silence._

_"Who is the girl that you love more than me?" she asked painfully. I won't admit it, but it struck me in my chest. She weaseled her way into my heart more than I would like to admit. I could feel my heart constrict a fraction. Little signs of fondness._

_"Her name is Leah," I trailed, "I wish I could tell you that I met you first. But, I don't," I heard her gasp and throw her hands over her mouth. I could see the glittering rouge lacquered nails. Her head jerked towards me and I refused to look at her. I could feel the rays of betrayal emanating from her eyes. She reminded me of myself. I could see myself in her gloomy eyes. It was like watching myself in the mirror, but it really wasn't me. It's just an imitation of my former self. It's quite pitiful; Nessie was. But I couldn't bring myself to make her feel better. I want to break her, so she knows what it feels like; how I felt._

_Because that's how the cycle works. Someone breaks you and you're dying, starving, hungry to dish it back to someone else. And you serve them the coldest dish, damn near frozen, and you watch as they eat it, devour it, and then they're just as broken as you and the cycle continues on. Without it, there would be no lonely hearts. Beautiful stories. Gut wrenching art. Meaningful music. You can say that I found my new calling, I am, after all, the protege of Leah Clearwater._

_Only, breaking hearts isn't as easy as it looks._

* * *

_"The heart was made to be broken."_

_Oscar Wilde_

* * *

_**Her small, soft hand grasped mine, and it jerked me.**_

_My heart started to race, running before the gun shot. I staggered my head towards her and I was met with her small, delicate features. Such strong, yet soft features for an eighteen year old. Her smooth porcelain skin, just shy of alabaster, her small button nose, small, thin lips, and perfect high cheekbones. She was the epitome of classical beauty, and yet, my heart was repulsed by her beauty because she wasn't the rugged goddess that had stolen my heart and murdered me at the same time. Nessie's finger smoothing against mine, derived my attention back to her._

_"Do you love me? Even just a fraction?" she asked. Within the depths of her amber-like eyes, I could see the confusion, the loneliness, the ache in her eyes. Swimming together, merging in a chemical reaction. Fusing together to create a chemical warfare, it swarmed around me, tainted my lungs, and I feel the misery seep into my skin. It birthed goosebumps on my arms and exploded my stomach._

_"Yes," I murmured out pathetically. It was true. I did love her. Someone once said that when a heart breaks, it doesn't break even. So why can't she have the smaller part of my heart? It was still a piece nonetheless. I could feel her doubt, the uneasiness of my answer. She placed her other hand above hers and kept them there on top of mine. She sat there staring at the formation of our intertwined hands. Her head tilted to the side and she continued to gaze. Looking much like a toddler at a cirque du freak. She sighed placatingly. _

_"Why can't you be mine?" she asked._

_"Because I never stopped being someone else's," I murmured, and suddenly, Nessie tore her hands off of mine and folded them into her lap. Her fantasy of she and I were destroyed at that very second. It was the bombing of Hiroshima all over again; dreams in shambles._

_"I thought you were so close to belonging to me. Just when I thought I had you, it turns out you never really was," Nessie murmured to the window as we passed trees. She didn't turn back to acknowledge me for the rest of the ride. _

_My mind was telling me to forget about Leah, that she is nothing but a bitch that broke my premature heart, left me at the beach, and aborted my child. It begged me to choose Nessie; our security guard; the safe choice. The choice that will leave me with a working, beating heart. But my heart, my aching heart refused to let her go; Leah. My Leah. The girl who I've given myself to countless times, whom I gave my virginity to. The same woman that can do no wrong in my eyes. She could slaughter a mass of people and I will still go back to her. Because I love her that fucking much. I blindly love Leah. But, I blatantly loathe her. I hate her so much, I could spit on her fucking grave. I love her too much, I'll just wipe it back up. It's a fucking war between my head and my heart._

_If there was no hearts in the human body, life would be much simpler. We could live our lives in pure ignorant bliss. I won't have to worry about treading my words to not break someone's feelings, I won't have to worry about broken hearts. It would be a beautiful thing, really. Imagine a world where we only thought with our brain and not our hearts. It would be the perfect Utopia. Built in an immature caricature of the perfect society. But this is the real world, where we have beating hearts that keep us alive. The heart is our life source and yet, we don't even use it to think. We have a brain that tells our body what to do, it tells our hearts what to do. Isn't that some fucking irony? Our damn brain controls our heart. And yet, here I am because I let my heart control my brain. And I'm losing my damn mind because of it._

_The only thing that stopped my musings was the little red house in sight. I pulled up to the house that I grew up in. We exited the car robotically. I opened her door, grabbed her luggage, led her the quiet house ever since I ditched my father in a nursing home. That guilt never ebbed away. I took her luggage to my room; my father's old room that he shared with my beautiful mother. She sat down on the edge of the bed and I stood at the door. I just watched her. Wondering what this creature would do next. She rubbed her left hand over the fabric of the bed spread. She bounced a little on it. Without looking up, she spoke._

_"Come sit," she lifted her head and motioned me over with her hand. I tore my heavy feet off the ground and walked towards her and sat beside her. Making sure to keep enough space between she and I. "I know your heart is dwelling with someone else right now," my heart beat, "but, if all I am if just a distraction for you, then I can't complain that you don't feel anything for me," she grasped my hands in hers. They were chilly, "Take it." She said and pointed to herself, "Take all you can find in me." She chose this moment to inch towards me. Her eyes searching mine for an objection. I accepted her offer with a kiss to her aching lips. _

_She scooted closer. Her arms slowing snaking their way around my neck, capturing it like it does its prey. I rested my hands on her waist and pulled her closer. She wasn't close enough. Our small kiss transcended into a heated battle. My tongue swirling her mouth, her hands raking my hair. She pulled away with a **Pop! **and leaned back on the bed. Her red locks fanning around her face, looking very much like a demure angel. Cast down to taunt Satan's demons. Hesitantly, she unbuttoned her flannel and let it slide down her shoulders. Under dark eyelashes, she beckoned me. And I followed, like a lost puppy I followed her. I crawled to the head of the bed where she was lying and I hovered her. She spread her fingertips over her exposed meager breasts that were popping out her small bra. I buried my nose into her stomach, made my way up to her breasts, her neck, her face. I kissed her on her lips and trailed my way back down. I kept her gaze as my head went down to her womanhood. Slowly, her amber-like eyes darkened to a hazel, her meager breasts grew more voluptuous, her jaw line was more defined, her red hair tainted to a black, and her skin became a beautiful russet.  
_

_Nessie became Leah that very moment._

_As the sun went down, so did I. I took everything from Nessie at that very moment._

_Everything but her heart. _

* * *

_"This is where we are at right now, as a whole. No one is left out of the loop. We are experiencing a reality based on a thin veneer of lies and illusions. A world where greed is our God and wisdom is sin, where division is key and unity is fantasy, where the ego-driven cleverness of the mind is praised, rather than the intelligence of the heart." _

_Bill Hicks_

* * *

Author's Note: Okayyyy, I know you all are like what the fuck was this sorry excuse of a chapter. Now that I think about it, this wasn't even the way it was supposed to go. I couldn't remember and I just let my hands do all the work for me. I know some of you are kinda sad that we didn't see any Leah in the chapter. But, uh, oh well.

Secondly, I know you guys are probably like "why the hell did this chapter go in a roundabout way? dafuq?" To answer that question, I don't know.

Lastly, Jacob's little monologue about hearts and brains, that was me ranting about it. It kinda only made sense in my head and I was thisss close to deleting, but then I thought, well, he is thinking this and I pretty sure that even his head doesn't make sense from time to time so I kept it. I sincerely hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Sorry, for any spelling errors. As for my grammar, I purposely make grammar mistakes sometimes, mostly just fragments, so I hope that doesn't bother anyone.


	7. Oblivion

Author's Note: I'm so sorry this is late. Senior year is a really busy year and I'm preparing for college so please, bear with me.

**Bria: You were my inspiration for this chapter.** Thank you. This one is for you.

Here's a recap because it's seriously been that long. Okay! Last chapter we saw Jacob and Nessie having sex after he picked her up from the airport. Jacob and Leah haven't seen or spoken to each other for **two days** now. Meaning, they haven't seen each other since the blow up at Leah's house. Kay? cOOL.

Another Note: This shifts point of view from Leah's to Jake's. You will _always_ know when the point of view changes. I always start the opening paragraph of Jake's point of view in **bold**. Leah's will always be regular, sans bold, sans italics. I hope this won't confuse anyone in the near future.

* * *

Europa

* * *

**I was suffocating.**

It was as if I forgot the concept of breathing. Being in the same room as Nessie with her back turned to me, shutting herself away from the world, away from me, was like being buried alive. My eyes made their way to Nessie, coming in contact with the milk of her skin, the red tresses that spilled down her back. The delicacy of her porcelain frame, my stomach lurched. I needed a fucking drink. I tossed my legs over the thirty year old queen sized bed that my father and mother shared, put on a random pair of shorts, and hastily tried to walk out of the room. Not before she spoke back up. And at the sound of her voice, I stopped in my tracks. I strained my ears to hear the soft, broken voice that came from her pink lips.

"You were a saga to me, but I was barely a haiku to you."

I let her words penetrate my skin. I could hear the bed sheets shift. And with that, at the doorway, I continued on.

I didn't even spare Nessie another glance.

It was all too much. The hurt on her face. The bitterness in her voice. And I wasn't sad about saying Leah's name; I'm sad that it wasn't actually her. I have been six years too sober on the feel of Leah. I haven't caressed her body, indulged in her essence in six years. And here she comes back, sauntering in the way she does. Quiet as a mouse, deadly as a demon. Breaking my heart for nostalgia's sake. But I wanted her, I could feel my penis throb just thinking about her. The warmth of her womanhood around my shaft, encasing me in the essence of her body, her temple. I cursed under my breath and stomped to the kitchen. And maybe, that's the most fucked up part of it all.

I grabbed a glass out of the cabinet closest to the refrigerator and snatched the ten year old Whiskey from under the sink. My father's secret stash. I poured a deal of liquid into the small glass. I raised it to my eye level and swirled the glass to watch the alcohol form a small tornado. I sighed. I tilted my head back and downed the hot acid down my throat. My eyes rolled to the back of my head.

Fuck Leah.

Fuck her for coming back. Fuck her for being alive. Fuck her for being so beautiful. Fuck her for telling me the truth. Fuck her for being an enigma. Fuck me for loving her. Fuck me for not getting over her. Fuck me for wanting her. Fuck me for needing her. Fuck it all. _Shit_.

I centered my eyes and looked at the off white fridge that has seen better years with chipped paint showing its true age. Magnet letters littering the doors along with old messages my father left to help him remember. His memory started to die when he continued to breathe after the age of sixty-five. I lifted my heavy feet closer to the fridge, each step as heavy as my heart. I read over each sticky note.

_Check on Charlie. _

_Go to the store and pick up eggs, milk, and bread._

_Call Sue today._

_Wash the dishes. _

_Thursdays and Sundays are trash days._

_Remember to put the trash in the trash bin to go outside the front of the house._

_Take a shower after supper. Use soap._

_Becca moved out March 23, 2006. She doesn't live here anymore. _

_You have two grandchildren. You haven't met them yet. _

_Aleah is Sue's grandchild. Not yours. _

_You have three children: Rachel, Rebecca, and Jacob. _

_Sarah died years ago. She doesn't live here anymore._

**_Your name is Billy Black._**

* * *

_"Alzheimer's is the cleverest thief, because she not only steals from you, but she steals the very thing you need to remember what's been stolen."_

_Jarod Kintz_

* * *

**I gulped down some more Whiskey. **

I never wanted my father's life to get this bad. He never deserved it. I was surprised that he remembered Sue when she died. It murdered my heart to tell him the next day after she died that she is dead, just like the rest of his friends. He couldn't even remember seeing her in the hospital. Or her funeral. And the look on his face when I told him of her passing. It was like he was learning it for the very first time again. The dejected look cast down at his feet. The silent head nod in acceptance. And I had to sit there and watch my father discover his life all over again. Learn that Becca left home. Learn that Sarah died. I clenched my fists. I never wanted to ship him away to a nursing home, but there was only so much I could take. He couldn't even remember his own name some days.

He couldn't even remember me.

I'm just, _so tired._

When Leah came back, I was expecting us to run off into the proverbial sunset, elope, and live happily ever after. Have a chance of living the life that I had planned for myself. Not this shame of a lifestyle that I'm living now. Working nine to five at a shitty customer service place. Making two dollars above the minimum wage. But, life isn't a fairytale. This is reality where I have to face my demons to gain angels; even if they were all named Leah. I could feel my hand twitch at the thought of calling her. Hearing her soft, soothing voice. Hear her airy breath over the landline. It has only been two days since I had last seen her, but it feels like she left me again. Even if it was me who left her on her back porch that night.

I could see the kitchen phone hanging on the wall. I could hear the chanting of it to call her, to dial the too familiar eleven digit number. I remember dialing her number every time I got home from school to ask her if she could come outside and play with me. Making mud pies and playing Cowboys and Indians.

I wonder what she would do if she saw my number on the ID. Would she answer it? Would she yell at me? Will Seth answer instead?

On a leap of faith, I glided over to the phone that was perched on the wall right by the doorway to the living room. I took the decade old receiver off the hook and listened to the same mundane dial tone. A tone that was so simple in all of its eloquence was nothing but a mere taunting. Ignoring the harsh whispers of my brain, I punched in her number. Feeling like a five year old in the process. I could see Nostalgia sitting in my living room with a hand perched under her chin watching me with a smirk on her face. Rings stole the silence in my ear.

_Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring!_

I could feel the beads of sweat germinate on my skin. The tiny hairs of my neck rose to attention like a soldier saluting his Major. The butterflies emerged in my stomach and I could have sworn I heard my heart beating in my ear. My palms started to sweat and the phone started to slip ever so slightly out of my hands. And just when I thought that she was going to blow me off, I could hear someone pick up the phone. I waited a second. No hello.

"Hi," I breathed into the receiver desperately praying to God that it was her on the other line. My voice creaking just a slither, a result from the harsh liquor being shoved down my throat. A pause. My heart beat. My hand twitched.

"Hi," and just like that, my life had changed. I closed my eyes and breathed in. It felt as if I were deaf all my life and gaining my hearing just to hear her voice for the very first time. My stomach flipped. My breath hitched. I slowly leaned my forehead on the wall, just above the phone hook. My hand tightened around the receiver.

"Hi," I reiterated. I mentally asked myself what the hell I was doing. My mind not processing the words that are spilling out of my mouth like a case of word vomit. I could hear her breathing over the line, I closed my eyes, and basked in the sound. I imagined myself nuzzled in the crook of her neck, breathing her in, listening to her breathing. The perfect scenario. The fantasy was quickly interrupted when Leah spoke.

"Its been two days," she quietly said, so unlike Leah, but in a way that made the moment perfect.

"Yeah," Another pause. "Y'know, I don't believe in God, but I don't know who else thank for you coming back into my life. That's got to be some supernatural power, right?"

"...Yeah."

* * *

_"And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter - they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you for so long..."_

_Sylvia Plath_

* * *

I've got a fucking war in my mind.

The days have begun to merge. Ever since Jacob had left me on the back porch, my mind has begun to race. It's an all too knowing feeling. I find myself looking at the clock, the phone, the door, to see if he would maybe, possibly, perhaps knock on the door, or call. Time has flown by. Forty-eight hours has come and gone since I had last seen him. A part of me can't help but wonder if this is his way of breaking me. I rolled on my side and stared at my mother's nightstand. Staring at all the little trinkets she had rested on her little area. I couldn't help but dream of a place in life where it could be my nightstand on the left side of the room and Jacob's on the other with his little knickknacks resting peacefully on the stand.

Before I could delve deeper into my musings, a knock sounded from the door. I never had the chance to say come in before the old white door creaked open to slowly reveal my niece in her pink and white pajamas. She had a purple CareBear in her hand and she was sucking on her right thumb. I sat up against the headboard and stayed silent and she silently walked in the room. Observing the walls and the surroundings around her as if this was the first time she entered this room before. I waited for her to say something, but she stopped in front of the foot of the bed and looked at me. From the corners of her eyes I could make out little tear stains.

"Aunt Leah," she mumbled out with her thumb still in her mouth, she continued, "mommy and daddy are fighting, again."

My heart lurched. My hands instinctively clenched before I opened my arms and she scrambled on top of the bed and into my arms. The purple CareBear hitting my chest softly. My arms raveled their way around her small frame and I couldn't help but wonder how often Seth and Carmen argue with each other and how often virgin ears catch the verbal war. I smoothed back her slick, black mane and whispered sweet nothings about better tomorrows and brighter futures. I rocked her in my arms, very much like I did her father only days ago.

Like father, like daughter.

I could feel her hot tears trail down my chest and seep into my cotton shirt. The heaving of her premature body against mine. I pushed her slightly away and used my thumbs to brush away the offending tears. Looking into her stainglass eyes, I could see the innocence painted in her orbs. She reminded me so much of Seth. I'm going to fight for her innocence in a way I never could for Seth.

"Wanna sleep in this big ol' bed with me? It could be a slumber party," I asked her with a slight smile on my face. While rubbing her tear-stained eyes with her wrist, she nodded demurely. I patted the spot next to me and she plopped down on it sloppily. I laid back against the headboard and eyed her from the corner of my eye. I could hear her lingering sniffles. Diverting my attention away from her, I looked up at the pure white ceiling, the only thing in this house that has seemed to keep its luster. "It will all be okay, Aleah. Trust me," I spoke aloud, not bothering to look at her. I could still sense her sucking her thumb laying next to me.

"Aunt Leah," she started. I turned to her, "will everything really be okay?" she asked with such sincerity and hope, I wouldn't dare crush them with my cynicism.

"Yeah."

"...Okay."

She turned her back to me and snuggled with the purple CareBear to try to drift off into the Land of the Nod. I watched her chest rise and fall and wondered if Seth knew what she heard at nights. My mind was racing. Thinking of many ideas, causes, and scenarios. My mind was in overdrive. To think that I've only been back for a total of five days and I already want to leave again. Escape my problems because it's the only way I know how to deal with them. The only way I'm good at.

_Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring!_

The phone woke me from my reverie. I glanced at the house phone perched elegantly on the cherry wood nightstand. I looked at the caller ID and read: _Black, Billy._ My heart sped up. With a mind of its own, my hand slowly picked up the cordless phone and pressed _TALK. _I could hear a few static over the phone and breathing. I gripped the phone a little tighter. A pause.

"Hi," I could hear the deep baritone breathe over the phone. The bass sending a sliver of chills down my spine, down my legs, to my feet. I closed my eyes and embraced his resounding of his voice through the telephone speakers. I wanted to give into him.

A rusty, "Hi," was all I could manage from the dark depths of my being. It sounded so raw, so displeasing. The line went silent before Jacob's voice sounded back through the receiver. His voice never sounded so lovely.

"Hi," he repeated. I wanted to spill my feelings to him. How I haven't been the same since he left me on the porch. How my mind has been in utter chaos. To confess to him that he didn't need to break me. Because I've always been broken. Instead, I kept them buried inside of me. Because, that's all I know how to do and tiger can't change its stripes.

"It's been two days," I whispered back, careful enough to not disturb the little girl next to me; whether she was sleep or not. I wanted to sound strong, to not sound so weak over the phone. To so carelessly display my vulnerability for the one person who can destroy me in the worst ways possible.

"Yeah," he sounded back. A second pause. "Y'know, I don't believe in God, but I don't know who else to thank for you coming back into my life. That's got to be some supernatural power, right?" I froze for a second. And then it broke, the dam that was building up inside of me. I could feel my insides burned at his heavy words. I never expected that he would be so good at breaking me, my heart. I placed a hand over my mouth to muffle my sobbing that he wouldn't know that my glass heart just gained a new crack. I gained my composure before I opened my mouth.

"...Yeah."

I should have known that he'd be so good at ripping hearts into shreds.

After all, he did learn from me.

* * *

_"...Yes, there is joy, fulfillment and companionship - but the loneliness of the soul in it's appalling self-consciousness, is horrible and overpowering."_

_Sylvia Plath_

* * *

Author's Note: Holy shit. This was super hard to write. This isn't beta-read or anything and this is in my opinion such a shitty chapter because it was so boring and uneventful and I couldn't find my muse for this chapter. :/ The struggle is real.

Anyways, thanks to those who are sticking around with this story. I swear I have no intentions on giving up this story especially when I've invested so much of my time in it. Besides, I really don't think this story is going to be over twenty chapters. So, yeah. I hope you found some entertainment from this... abomination.


End file.
